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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530111">Reconciliation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mantis21/pseuds/Mantis21'>Mantis21</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Amphibia (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Reunions, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:34:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mantis21/pseuds/Mantis21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning home after years away isn't easy for Sasha Waybright. Things only get more complicated when, by chance, she accidentally reunites with Anne Boonchuy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anne Boonchuy/Sasha Waybright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>267</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">A nervous knot formed in the pit of Sasha’s stomach as the airplane began to descend. She was thrilled about getting off the plane—the old man next to her had snored loudly the entire ride, and the child sitting behind her had kicked and punched her seat like it owed him money—but she was still anxious. She looked out the window, and even though the landscape was obscured by the blackness of night, it still evoked a mixed sense of comfort and dread in her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“California,” she said softly. “Home sweet home.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">How long had it been? Six years, if she remembered correctly. She had left for New Hampshire for college and hadn’t looked back. She bounced around the New England states for a while, going between business idea after business idea, job after job, boyfriend after boyfriend...</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">...and every single thing she tried just crashed and burned in front of her eyes.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She sighed. At least she still had the money to come back. She’d figure out her next big move here.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“One thing’s for sure, though: I’m never getting another boyfriend again,” she said in a growl.</p><p class="western"> </p>
<hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She went through the whole process of checking out her luggage and showing her papers to whoever needed papers shown to them. It was a relief when she finally got out; the city air wasn’t fresh by any means, but at least it didn’t have that pungent airport smell to it.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She dragged her twin suitcases to the road and got in a small yellow taxi. The driver was helpful enough, taking her suitcases and gently putting them in the trunk for her. When he came back, he buckled his seat belt, and asked, “Where to?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That was when Sasha realized she had no idea where she wanted to go.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Her parents? Well, she had told them she was coming back and they did tell her she could stay with them, but...she didn’t want to. She knew her mother was just waiting to spring some speech on her about how crazy she must have been to think she could make it on her own and how wrong it was for her to run out on them...as if Sasha had left California to leave her behind. No, she left to leave...someone else behind...</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha's face twitched just thinking about her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uhh, Miss?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha turned back to the cabby. “Where’s the nearest hotel?” she asked.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nearest hotel? I can take you, but I’m telling you now, it’s pricey. Maybe a bit too pricey for”—he looked her up and down, from her strap sandals to her stained shirt to her ruffled blonde hair—“your tastes. No offense.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha did take offense; that much was plain by the angry glower on her face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nearest motel, then,” she said forcefully.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The driver paused for a moment, looking upwards as if a map of the city were printed on his forehead. Then he grinned. “Alright, this’ll be a short ride.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was, but the credit for that didn’t go to him. He would soon discover that Sasha had once been a resident of this city, and she still remembered enough to stop him from taking the long routes when there were shorter routes possible. But the time they reached the motel, the poor cabby was sobbing over how much money he could’ve made if only she had been a gullible newcomer or tourist.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet, and handed her driver the exact amount on the taximeter. “What, no tip?” he called after her as she stepped out of the cab.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She went to the trunk, grabbed her belongings, then went back to the side window, purse slung over her shoulders and luggage in both hands.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m afraid a tip would be...a bit too pricey for my tastes,” she said with a grin.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The cab driver stared daggers into her back as she walked away. Sasha felt a strange mix of both pride and guilt. She knew what she did was incredibly petty...but damn if parroting his words back to him wasn’t fun!</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She checked into the motel—to her relief, it wasn’t one of those crazy ones that charged by the hour—and took her things up to her room. It was on the far side of the second floor, so Sasha had a chance to walk by all her neighbors' rooms.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">One smelled of sickly sweet fruit; bananas and pineapples and pomegranates. The one next to it had a large window with a hairless, shirtless old man pressed up to it, whose eyes followed Sasha until she was out of his sight. And, unfortunately, the room next to hers contained two people, a man and woman, who were in the middle of a loud screaming contest.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The good news was that Sasha was too tired to care.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The moment she entered her room and locked the door behind her, she dropped her things and ran straight to the bed in the middle of the room. She pounced on it like a puma on a deer, and wrapped the blanket around her. The blanket was both soft and warm, two things that came as a pleasant surprise to her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Mmmmmmmm.</em>”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She kicked off her sandals and rolled onto her side. And when she closed her eyes and fell asleep, she smiled the first genuine smile in California in a long, long time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She awoke hours later, when bright sunlight filtering in from the blindfolds caressed her face and brought her to wakefulness. She yawned and stretched, her joints popping, as she rose. Then, she got up and went to the window. She squinted as she looked up to the blue sky; the sun was at its crescendo, which meant it was either noon or very close to noon.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Right.” Sasha lightly slapped her cheeks, chasing off any residual tiredness. “We’re starting the day late, but late is better than never. And if we’re going to start, we’re going to start right.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">First thing she did was take a shower. The water was lukewarm, but she made do.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Once she was done drying her naked body with her fluffy towel, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and slowly, painstakingly, combed her hair like she hadn’t done in days. When she was done, she tied it all together in a long ponytail, and checked her reflection. She smiled when she saw her golden hair regain a little of its shimmer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Next was breakfast, which was two small cereal bars she had packed, one with strawberries and the other with chocolate. Sweet and nutritious.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Finally, she cast off her old clothes and opened her suitcase to pluck a fashionable shirt-skirt combo. The shirt was a light arctic blue and her skirt was a ruddy shade of pink; if she squinted, she could’ve sworn it was a bit like her old middle school unifor—</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A tsunami wave of memories crashed into her mind.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Eleven years ago, wearing that old uniform, she had been transported to a strange other world, where amphibians ruled supreme and giant bugs haunted the landscape. Eleven years ago, she formed a friendship with a military commander from that world, a stout toad named Grime. Eleven years ago, she had to say goodbye to him, and to all the other toads, as she came back to Earth with her two friends that were transported with her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She didn’t think about it that often...no, that was a lie. The truth was that she didn’t like to think about it that often. There was so much about Amphibia that she hated. She hated being thrown in a cage and chained to the ground. She hated fearing for her life as giant centipedes and ants and whatever else tried devouring her week after week. She hated saying goodbye to Grime, and hugging him that one last time. She hated leaving behind a world of magic and monsters and mishaps to return to a world of mundanity.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But most of all...she hated how she had acted back there.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It wasn’t any different from how I acted before I went there, though.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha reflected on that, touching her chest, before aggressively shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it, Sash,” she told herself. “You were a kid, all kids act stupid and mean and regret it later. Besides...it’s not like <em>they’re</em> still here. They’ve probably moved on from everything before, and you should too.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Those words sounded more reassuring in her head.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She sighed. “I need to get outside.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She put the clothes on, ignoring all the memories they helped rekindle, and went into the bathroom one last time for a few touch-ups. Not that she needed them (she was stunning without them, thank you very much) but a little mascara here and a little lip gloss there never hurt anyone's confidence. </p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Once she was done, she stepped outside and she was off.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She didn’t want to waste money on another taxi, so she decided instead to explore her immediate surroundings. She walked the same sidewalk as everyone else, though even the most cursory look would reveal she was a step above the unwashed masses huddled around her. The people walking by her knew that too; the men all leered and stared like idiots while their girlfriends shot nasty looks her way.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha smirked. <em>Sorry ladies, we can’t all be goddesses.</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Setting that aside, what struck Sasha the most was just how much the cityscape had changed in her absence. Perhaps that should have been unsurprising, but that didn't stop her stroll down the sidewalk from feeling almost like she were touring a whole other place entirely.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There were bars and restaurants where there had once been cafes and bookstores.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A row of trees that had once grown besides the road had burned down years ago and were replaced with a series of billboards, each plastered with smiling young people advertising some thing or another.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Even the people seemed different; they seemed more shiftless, more crooked, more anxious. And if nothing else, having people much better looking than them smiling plastically down at them, bombarding their collective unconscious with corporate advertisements, didn’t seem to help matters.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Everything just seemed so different that Sasha was caught off-guard when she came across a familiar landmark.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“The...the ice cream place,” she said in awe. “It’s still here.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The ice cream place in question was actually an indoor strip of food vendors and booths. A long row, each serving different delicacies, with tables and chairs scattered in front of them. The ice cream booth in question was in the middle of it all, nestled comfortably between a donut store and an Afghani restaurant.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha stared from the outside, unable to believe her eyes. How was it possible that everything had been replaced except for this place?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She couldn’t deny that it made her really happy to see, though. So happy, her eyes almost shed tears.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">This was a sacred place. This was where she and her high school friends spent so many hours after school, eating ice cream and talking about school, life, and all their most-recent dates and romances. She was struck by pangs of nostalgia, and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself back in high school, walking in there with her friends…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Suddenly, a bell rang over her head. She opened her eyes and found herself standing in the open doorway, her palm pressed to the metal bar on the glass door.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western"><em>Oh, what the hell? </em>she thought. <em>Just one for nostalgia’s sake.</em></p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She went to the counter of the ice cream parlor, just as she had done so many times before. She could almost feel the ghosts of her past visits walking alongside her. When she stood at the counter, she took a whiff of the air. It even smelled like it did before.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The only problem was that no one was standing there to take her order.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There was a bell on the counter, next to the cash register, and Sasha struck it in frustration. “Sorry, sorry,” she heard come muffled from behind the door in the back. The door swung open, a young woman poured out, and Sasha gasped.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, sorry about that,” said a tan-skinned young employee with bushy brunette hair. “I just had to take a call from my roommat—”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She stopped when she saw the woman standing on the other side of the counter.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In an instant, her brown eyes filled with recognition.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“S-Sasha?” came the familiar voice of Anne Boonchuy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was more of a prologue than anything, which is why it's as short as it is. Future chapters will be longer, hopefully.</p>
<p>But I hope you enjoyed, and that you'll stay tuned for more as Sasha and Anne begin rebuilding their relationship from the ground up. And maybe Marcy will show up too. Who knows? (She will, don't worry).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">One would think that being sent to another world via magical music box would prepare a person to forevermore expect the unexpected.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But Anne Boonchuy’s day had been normal until that moment when she came out of the back room. She had woken up, taken a shower, put on her uniform of white frock, pink apron, and  thin hat atop her bushy hair, driven to work, and attended to the few customers that needed attending to (and money taken from). It was such a normal, plain, boring day that she hadn’t even hesitated to go into the back room when her phone rang, hoping for some release from the mundanity.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">And when she heard the bell ringing at the front desk, she had straightened herself up and went out to face her new customer, whoever they would be...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">...only to be completely shocked by the reappearance of Sasha Waybright.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“S-Sasha?” she had blurted in disbelief. It couldn’t be her, Sasha was long gone. But this woman had the same hair, same eyes, same beauty mark, same demeanor...she even wore clothes that reminded Anne so strongly of those uniforms they had worn back in middle school.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It couldn’t be Sasha...but it had to be.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The blonde woman on the other side of the counter didn’t say anything for a while, but just as Anne was beginning to wonder if she had jumped to conclusions too soon, she nodded her head.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When she did, Anne felt like she had been struck by lightning.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Dude...Sasha...I-I can’t believe it’s really you...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The disbelief punctuating her words only made Sasha wince.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She looked down to avoid Anne’s gaze, like a guilty child on the receiving end of a scolding, but looked back up as she felt Anne’s hands grab onto her arms and pull her closer. To her immense surprise, Anne didn’t look angry or upset.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">On the contrary, she looked...happy. Her smile was bright and ecstatic, and her eyes blinked repeated, as if holding back tears.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I can’t believe it’s you,” she repeated in an emotional whisper.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha, still confused, only blinked back. Why was she acting like this? Why did she seem so happy? If the roles were reversed, Sasha wouldn’t be happy...okay, she would be a little happy, but she wouldn’t show it. She would hide that and show nothing but disappointment and anger to the person who had ditched her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Still, there was a bright twinkling in Anne’s eyes, so inviting that she couldn't stop a smile of her own from forming on her face. “I can’t believe it’s you either,” she said.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Their first exchange of words in years proved to be the breaking point; Anne jumped over the counter and, in front of all the other workers and customers, hugged Sasha as tightly as she could. </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Once she got over the second wave of surprise, Sasha hugged back.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” said Anne as she slid into the chair into front of Sasha’s. She placed two paper cups of ice cream on the table. “I tried to use up all my break time now, but my manager told me to wait for Cynthia to show up before he let me have the rest of the day for myself.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shook her head. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t really, because Sasha had waited nearly an hour, and under normal circumstances she would’ve chewed Anne out for making her wait like this...but these weren’t normal circumstances.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Plus she brought ice cream. All was forgiven.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha took her cup and peered at its contents. A small smile came on her face. “You remembered my favorite,” she said.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You did order it every single time we came here. I think it’s been burned into my brain at this point.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The two girls shared a laugh. “What can I say?” said Sasha. “I find something I like, and I stick with it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah.” Anne’s smile faltered slightly. “You stick with what you like...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What was that?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“N-Nothing!” said Anne in a louder voice. She was glad Sasha didn’t hear her. “So, Sasha...how was New Hampshire?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“New Hampshire?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“There’s where you went for college, right?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh...yeah, right. Though I did end up bouncing around for a while. New York, Maine, Vermont. I even snuck over the Canadian border one time.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne chuckled. “You still just do whatever you want, don’t you?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I guess so,” responded Sasha, rubbing her nape as it suddenly flared up in flush. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, “A-And I did think about you a lot. You and Marcy. I-I’m sorry I didn’t text or call...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>God, please open up a sinkhole underneath me and stop me. Stop me from reminding her how I ditched her, I'm just making things more awkward.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, it’s fine,” said Anne, waving her hand dismissively. “Communication is two-way, after all. I should’ve tried getting in touch with you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Both girls fell silent, neither sure what to say. Sasha grabbed a plastic spoon and started filling her mouth with ice cream—both to keep herself from making things worse and to help cool her warming face—while Anne looked down at her shoes like they were the most fascinating things in the whole world. If she squinted, that mud stain on her right shoe kinda looked like a squirrel.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The girls stayed silent, and since silence is a vacuum, and vacuums demand to be filled, every moment that neither spoke was a moment that their brains took to replay memories each one had of the other. That one time they pushed each other around in shopping carts, that other time they prank-called Wendy’s at a sleepover, that other other time they made their own simplified version of Morse Code to help Sasha pass an exam she didn’t study for...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">And then the memories of Amphibia came.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sounds of swords clashing thundered in their ears.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Friends at one point, enemies at another...but either one was better than how they ended up: as strangers.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>But isn’t that what you wanted, Sasha? </em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s grip on her spoon tightened, her knuckles whitening. Getting away from Anne had been what she wanted once, but that was then and this was now. Maybe now she could be...different around Anne. Maybe now things could be different. Maybe they could be friends again. Fate had brought them together again, so maybe...maybe she should at least try.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her concentration was broken by the sudden sound of snapping. She looked to her hand and saw her plastic spoon in pieces.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Whoops,” she said, breaking the silence.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne made a move to get up. “Dude, hold on, let me get you another spoon.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, no, it’s fine.” She grabbed her stub of a spoon and awkwardly scooped up some vanilla. “See, I can still do it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Are you sure? It’s really no problem...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne, sit. You’re on break right now, right? You’re not my waiter, you’re my friend.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Maybe Anne didn’t pick up on it, but those last words were about more than the spoon.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Regardless, Anne slid back in her seat, and Sasha tapped their table rhythmically. “So, <em>giiiiiiiirl”—</em>Sasha stretched out the word until it became awkward—“how have you been over the past few years?” She ignored how her heart thumped, as if it were hungry for the answer, and she just barely stopped herself from saying <em>Did you miss me?</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’ve been good,” said Anne. “Mostly busy with college and work here, but at least I still have some time to relax. Well, I do on Tuesdays and Thursdays, at least.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wait, you’re still in college?” asked Sasha.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne nodded. “Final year. Probably would’ve finished sooner, but I had to take a little while off to...eh, it doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, and Sasha realized it was probably a good idea not to press on it. “You already finished, right?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Mhm. Graduated and everything.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Congrats, girlfriend! Ooh, I wish I could’ve been there for you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>I wish you could’ve been there too. </em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha bit on her lip to keep from saying that aloud.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It’s strange, though...why are you working here at our old ice cream place?” asked Sasha, both because she wanted to change the subject and because she was actually curious. “Don’t your parents own a restaurant? I think they’d rather you work for them than one of their competitors.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne snorted. “Look, ice cream is good and all, but I wouldn’t call it <em>competition </em>for Thai food. Thai is on a whole 'nother level.” Her face then shifted to a more solemn expression. “Not that it matters, though; our restaurant closed years ago.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What? Why?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“The economy,” answered Anne, a bit too quickly. Like she had that prepared. “The economy got hard and at some point you’re just losing more than you make back. That’s why my parents had to close.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Again, Sasha decided not to press on how she seemed like she was hiding something. “So you decided to work here instead?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. I actually got lucky here. They weren’t looking for any new hires, but I had been such a loyal customer for so long the manager decided he'd give me a chance. For docked pay, of course, but now I’m at a normal salary.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, that’s great Anne. I wish I could hold onto a job like you can.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne snickered. “You worked in service? God, I can’t imagine the high and mighty Sasha Waybright taking orders from sweaty teenagers.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Not service,” corrected Sasha, raising a finger high. “I opened my own businesses, just like my parents and grandparents before me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Whoa? You own businesses?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne watched as she lowered her triumphant gesture. She hid her hand under the table, and slumped until her chin was just hovering over its surface. “Owned,” she said sadly. “I <em>owned</em> businesses. Past tense. They all failed.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh...sorry, Sasha, I didn’t mean...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, no, it’s fine.” Sasha shook her head. She lifted herself back up and attempted a smile. “I’m still in my early twenties, I still have a lot of time to get one idea up and off the ground.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That’s the spirit!” said Anne. She took her cup of ice cream and raised it towards Sasha. “So it sounds like both of us got here from failed businesses. So, at the very least, they helped bring us back together. To failed businesses!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha laughed and blushed, and took her cup and raised it toward Anne’s. “To failed businesses,” she said in good humor.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They hit their cups together, and laughed together. It made Sasha feel better about everything, and listening to Anne’s laughter was just the cherry on top. Her laughter was musical, rising and falling like the fine notes of classical orchestra. Sasha’s ears twitched pleasantly listening to it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“This is better,” declared Anne. “No more talk about everything that sucks. We’re back together again, here at the parlor, laughing just like old times. Ooh, you wanna know what would make this more like old times?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shook her head, so Anne just grinned. A wide, impish grin that hinted at mischief. She beckoned to Sasha to lean in, so she did so. Anne moved in closer to her ear, and for a moment, Sasha felt her breaths washing over her face. It was like a cool and pleasant breeze, laced with hints of cinnamon.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“<em>We should talk about romance.</em>”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s heart sped up like a racing horse after the firing of the starting pistol. “Romance?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah,” her friend said, sliding back into her seat. “Are you seeing anyone? Did you meet any cute boys over on the East Coast?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Oh, that’s what she meant. I thought...oh, never mind...</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her heartbeat calmed down—good thing, too, because it almost felt like it was ready to break through her rib cage. She exhaled a calming breath, then replied, “Yeah, I had a few boyfriends here and there. Nothing big, really.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sasha, don’t try to be humble,” laughed Anne. “No way someone like you had a boyfriend ‘here and there.’”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Someone like me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne nodded. “You’re confident, you’re charismatic, and you’re, like, one of the prettiest girls I know! The guys there had to be totally all over you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay, okay.” Sasha rolled her eyes playfully. “I had a lot of boyfriends.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I knew it! So, tell me what they were like. Ooh, no, actually, tell me what the last one was like. Unless...are you still with him?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha laughed, though it was noticeably more forced this time. “No, I’m not with him anymore,” she said with the cadence of someone trying to keep her tone neutral. “I—<em>we </em>broke up with each other. On good terms.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh. Well, what he was like?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What was he like? Well...he was...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Daniel, can you look at these for me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The day it happened had been especially gloomy throughout; after two days of dark clouds hanging above, Sasha woke up to find heavy rain outside. The downpour didn’t let up the whole day, and from dawn to dusk, the sky pelted the earth with sharp bullets of water. The window behind her still had raindrops racing down it; the neon-lit world of nighttime New York was blurry and unfocused.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Trapped inside her apartment with her business partner and boyfriend Daniel, she had thought they could spent the day together, but he preferred to stay in his own corner, doing his own thing. Now needing to banish both boredom and disappointment, Sasha decided that she could take the time to go over her finances, as well as those of her newfound partnership enterprise.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">And it was in her pouring over her receipts that she found something interesting…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Daniel, a handsome man with fluffy brown hair and smooth tan features, turned to her and cocked a half-grin. “'Daniel?' Why so formal? I like it better when you call me Dan.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha, undeterred, shoved the papers in her hand into his face. “Read these,” she said more forcefully.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Daniel’s nervous twitches weren’t lost on her. He extended his hand slowly towards her, until she lost her patience and shoved them into his palm. He pretended to look over them, nodding from time to time and shuffling through them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I see,” he said thoughtfully. He looked back to her. “Well, this is interesting, but I don’t see anything wr—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Really?” hissed Sasha. “Then here, let me help you: there’s thousands of dollars missing between the input and the output. Thousands! So what happened, <em>Dan</em>? Did our accountant make a mistake? Was it taken by the Tooth Fairy to put under some little snot’s pillow? Or...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">His eyes narrowed. “Are you accusing me of something?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha gazed fiercely back. “Yeah. I am.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The two glared at each other for what seemed like the slowest eternity. Outside, there was suddenly lightning, and their faces were washed with white brightness. Neither broke away from the other.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Then, suddenly, a smirk came on Daniel’s face. He raised his arms in the air. “Alright, alright, you got me,” he said. “Good job, Sherlock Whore.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What did you call me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You heard what I said.” He stood up and stepped over to Sasha. He was taller than her, so he craned his neck downward to keep meeting her eyes. “But I bet you don’t know why I did it. Betcha don’t know what the money’s even for.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don’t really c—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It’s for Rose.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha blinked in surprise. She was completely caught off guard by the news. Daniel saw this, and his grin grew even wider.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Rose?” repeated Sasha. Her voice wasn’t as strong and commanding as it had been seconds ago.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, Rose. Rose Regina. Remember her from senior year? Yeah, I’ve been doing some nice things for her. Flowers, chocolates, high-class dining, spotting her when she needs a little bread to pay the phone bill...it’s what a man should do for his <em>girlfriend, </em>after all.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“S-So you two...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yep,” he said cruelly. “We’ve been a thing for a while now. Well, not completely. I still had enough respect for you not to have sex with her, but I’m tired of waiting to get some. I’m over you, Sasha, so how about we just—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“<em>Get out.</em>”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She said her words so quietly that Daniel wasn’t sure he heard her. He leaned in slightly. “What was that?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s fist clenched tightly. She ground her teeth together. When she looked up, her eyes were blazing with righteous fire.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“GET OUT!” she roared.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Daniel stepped back, his hand on his ear. His face was twisted in pain. As he did, Sasha rushed to a nearby shelf and grabbed a heavy book and threw it at him. “Get out!” she shouted again. She reached and grabbed another—a hardcover this time—but before she could launch it, Daniel grabbed her wrist and squeezed it until she let go.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She stared up in fear. Daniel had never laid a hand on her before. Was he...was he about to...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He looked like he was considering it, but decided against it. He let go of her wrist, letting her hand fall down back to her side. For a moment, he was unmoving, until his lips curved into a final grin, this one nastier than the ones before.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Get out?” He echoed her words with some humor. “Sasha, dear...this is my apartment. <em>You</em> need to get out.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha made no move to do so. She stood paralyzed and petrified like a victim of the Medusa. Fear and fury controlled her mind and thoughts. One told her to flee. The other told her to fight.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She finally came to a decision to do both.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She went into their—<em>his</em>—room and packed as many of her things as she could. Her clothes, her computer, her toothbrush, her phone, some of her books. Then, she made sure she had enough money in her purse to ensure she would never have to come back here. When all that was done, as she was dragging her suitcases towards the doorway, she stopped in front of one of Daniel’s shelves.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was an ornate shelf of impeccable design. Polished wood, precious metal, and pristine glass all housed a number of artifacts Daniel had in his possession. There was a vase decorated in Phoenician symbols that he had acquired in Lebanon. There was a porcelain cat of luck he had acquired in Japan. There was dagger with a leathery hilt that he had acquired in Norway. A talisman, a nesting doll, a carved emerald; all expensive souvenirs to remind him of all the places he and his family had been to.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Before he could stop her, Sasha grabbed the shelf and threw it all to the ground.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“HEY!” She didn’t turn around to look at him. She grabbed her suitcases and raced out the front door and into the elevator without looking back for a second. Once she reached the bottom floor, she ran outside, into the heavy storm, as thunder boomed above.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As she ran aimlessly through the rain, she couldn't tell whether it was raindrops or tears streaming down her face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Uh, Sasha? Earth to Sash?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne snapped her fingers in front of Sasha’s eyes, and she returned to the present with a bit of a start. “What? Anne? Oh...right. I was talking about...him.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. Y-You looked a bit upset, so maybe we should change th—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, no, no, it’s fine, it’s fine,” insisted Sasha insincerely. “You were asking me what he was like? Well, he was a gentleman, and really handsome, but it just didn’t work out. Sad, huh?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I...guess so.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, it’s sad what happened with Dan. And Stan. And Jan. And Andy. But it’s fine, I’m over it all now. I’ve made an oath to myself; no more boyfriends. Never again. So it’s fine.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It clearly wasn’t fine. Anne was gracious enough not to poke the hornet’s nest though.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So what about you, Anne?” Sasha reclined on her arm, trying to regain some of her casual swagger. “You hook up with any cute guys, girl?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Huh? Oh, uh, no, actually,” said Anne, blushing a little. She rubbed the back of her neck in slight embarrassment. “Haven’t found the right person, haven’t had the time to look.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha was surprised upon learning this. How could Anne not have had a boyfriend this whole time? Anne was, in her purely platonic opinion, a highly attractive young woman. She had a frame that was slender yet fit, her delicate features seemed to be crafted by the hands of a goddess, and she had an amazing personality...smart, funny, kind, loyal to a fault. How could she have not met someone this whole time?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha was surprised...but strangely she also felt relieved.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She was preparing some words of confidence (“I’m sure you’ll find the right person...maybe they’ll have been right in front of you the whole time.”) when a sudden shrill ringing interrupted their conversation.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ooh, sorry,” said Anne, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out her phone and checked the caller. Nodding, she swiped the screen with her finger and stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec,” she told Sasha.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Take your time.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne beamed gratefully, then stepped outside. Sasha watched from the window as Anne paced back and forth as she talked to whoever it was on the other side. Whoever it was, she seemed happy to talk to them; she had a great big smile on her face as she talked to them. But what struck Sasha the most was how fluid her movements seemed. She didn’t notice it before, but when Anne was sitting with her, her posture was stiff and slightly hunched. But outside, on the phone, she loosened up.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Can’t blame her,” said Sasha with a hint of the forlorn. “I’m still a bit uncomfortable too.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But with the uncomfortableness came positive feelings. She was uncomfortable and slightly awkward, but also elated, to an extent. A muted happiness, warm like a familial hearth, was blooming in her chest.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">That was something she hadn’t felt for a long time.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Every boyfriend she had been with didn’t give her that same feeling. Daniel was a special bad case, but even the others, perfectly decent guys, didn’t give her anything. For a long time, she had carried a gnawing sense of emptiness inside her. Every year, it felt as if her heart had hollowed out more than the year before it. She could train herself to ignore it, but it was still there, and at her most vulnerable moments, she didn’t have the inner strength to pretend it wasn’t there.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Like that run in the rain. That was her darkest moment, and her emptiest.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shivered just thinking about it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But just a few minutes with Anne—just a casual chat—and she could feel the empty feeling fading away. There was a new fire within her, and it was small, but it still scorched the dark tentacles of her inner void whenever it tried to grab it, to extinguish it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She had missed Anne. Deeply so. And she didn’t realize just how much until now.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her thoughts suddenly trailed away from Anne and sent her back to Amphibia. She remembered Commander Grime, and how much she missed him too. When she arrived in that strange world, he was the gross, slimy frog demon that had kept her in chains. But by the time she left, he was one of the dearest friends she had ever known. She remembered hugging that slimy hide that she once been so disgusted by, and telling him that she would never forget him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She never did, and every time she thought about him, she regretted leaving him behind even more strongly than the last time she thought of him.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>But I can do better now, </em>thought Sasha. <em>I left Anne behind before, but I know better now. I won’t make the same mistakes as the past. I’m a new person, a new Sasha. I can...I can be with Anne this time. I won’t have to run from h—I won’t have to run again.</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The bell above the door rang, and Sasha watched Anne come back to their table. “It’s a good thing I took the rest of the day off,” said Anne as she scooped up her (mostly melted) ice cream. “I got a call and I got Roomie Duty-ed.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Roomie duty?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, that’s something me and—wait, did I tell you who my roommate was?” When Sasha shook her head, Anne grinned. “Okay, um...if you don’t have anything going on today—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don’t! I mean, er, I don’t.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, how about you come back to my place? I got a real treat for you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>You had me at “my place," </em>thought Sasha as she got up and followed Anne to her car.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The first thing that struck Sasha about Anne’s apartment were all the wires on the ground.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Watch your step,” advised Anne. The two of them began playing a game of tip-toe around them. While they were all over the place, Sasha could clearly see that they all originated from the same source; somewhere down the hallway to their right.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They entered the hallway, going through a beaded curtain where every bead had an Asiatic symbol painted on it, and then strode down the dark hall until they came to a room that issued a greenish glow. All the wires came from that room, Sasha observed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne turned to her, her smile as wide and puckish as ever. Sasha found it adorable.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You’re gonna love this,” Anne told her, and before she could ask what she meant by that, Anne cupped her hand around her mouth and called out. “Hey Mar Mar! Look who I found!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s eyes widened. No, it couldn’t be...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne?” a familiar voice came from the room. The green glow dimmed slightly as a figure dressed in a hoodie poked their hooded head out. “Thank God you’re here, I—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She stopped when she noticed the person standing behind her roommate.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No way...Sasha? Is that you?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha raised her hand weakly and waved. “H-Hey Marcy,” she said. “It’s been a long tim<em>OOF!</em>”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She was interrupted as Marcy, without warning, launched herself at Sasha, tackling her to the ground, and squeezing her so tightly that Sasha nearly passed out.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sorry, sorry,” apologized Marcy as she helped Sasha off the ground, as per Anne’s demand. Not that she needed her to tell her to do so, she would’ve done it anyway. “I’m sorry, I just got so excited and I couldn’t believe it, and I forgot it’s not social protocol to tackle people when you’re so excited and can’t believe it...and now I’m just spiraling. It’s so good to see you again, Sasha!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It’s good to see you too, Marcy,” said Sasha as she dusted off her shirt. She then looked back at Marcy. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she had grown a bit taller since they last saw each other. Her black hair now had streaks of blueish color in it, and her eyes were <em>much</em> redder than she remembered, but otherwise she was still the same old Marcy. If her pouncing on her and babbling was any indication, she probably still acted the same way too.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You know what this reminds me of?” said Marcy. “It reminds me how back in Amphibia, you two met up first before I met up with Sasha again. Remember that?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The other two blushed and chuckled awkwardly, looking away from each other. They figured it was better not to dwell on memories of how they tried to kill each other so early in their reunion.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But really, it’s...well, I’m sounding a bit like a broken mp3 file, but it’s just so good to see you again Sasha. How have you been all this time?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Before she answers that,” interrupted Anne, “you said you had something important for us to deal with?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I did?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You invoked Roomie Duty, remember?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, right! This is actually better, I could use two opinions. Both of you, come here.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They followed her back to her desk. The source of the lime-colored glow was revealed to be Marcy’s six PC monitors, hooked up to two separate CPUs. She shook her two mouses until all the screens were back on, at which point Anne rushed back to turn on the lights to protect them from collective blindness.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy clicked on a few folders, and pulled up what appeared to be the same video game character sprite—a blue humanoid newt in armor. They weren’t exactly the same though; one had silvery plates of armor while the other had what appeared to be iron chain mail.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sasha, Anna Banana, could you tell me which sprite looks better?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wait, this is what you called me out of work for?” asked Anne with a groan. “Marcy, you can’t invoke Roomie Duty over something like this. It's sacred, and it needs to be for something important enough for me to get off work for.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But this is important!” protested Marcy. “This is my player character. The linchpin of this whole project. If I mess up here, all my hard work on this game would have been for nothing! Nothing, Anne!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay, okay. You’re just lucky I got out of work early before you called me.” Anne rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her bemused smile. She studied the two sprites, rubbing her chin as she made her thoughtful decision. “I guess...it depends. Is your character meant to be really strong?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Not at first. He’s a squire on a quest.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay, but then wouldn’t a squire have chain mail armor? I doubt he would be given good armor at the start of his training.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, I considered that,” said Marcy, “but then I remembered the whole point of the game is that he’s going on a quest because all the other knights have been eaten by the giant fire-breathing chickens, so wouldn’t he get the best armor possible? Full armor would be more protective against fire and sharp talons than chain mail. But then I also remembered that silver is a soft metal and would make terrible armor, but then that also brings up the question of aesthetics versus realism and the role artistic license plays in all this...and then my head hurt, so I called you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne patted her on the head. “You’re overthinking it,” said Anne. “If you think the silver armor would be better, then go for silver, realism be damned.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy exhaled loudly. She looked over to Sasha. “What do you think, Sash?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Wow, she jumped back into using my nickname fast. Not that I mind, just thought she would take a little longer.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don’t play a lot of video games, so...I’ll agree with Anne.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Very well, silver it is then.” She went to her keyboard and typed a few things in. The chain mail sprite vanished, and the silver armor sprite filled all six screens. Marcy typed and clicked a little more, and then spun around and threw her hands in the air. “Whoo! Thanks guys, that was driving me crazy. Let’s get something to eat. Sasha, we can catch up over food. If you’re hungry, that is.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I could go for food, yeah,” said Sasha. Surprisingly, eating only ice cream and cereal bars leaves a person very hungry. Who would’ve thought?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Great. I can order us something good. How about In-N-Out.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“In-N-Out? Oh man, I haven’t had In-N-Out in so long,” said Sasha longingly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“The best of Cali cuisine.” Marcy nodded.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Within the hour, their order came to the door. They paid the deliveryman, passed their food around, then sat at the table and prepared both to eat and for some more catching up.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had planned the chapter to cover a little bit more, but I found this to be a good stopping point. What little I wrote beyond this has now become the first part of the next chapter. It's not much, but it's a springboard nonetheless.</p>
<p>I've never had In-N-Out before, but a friend of mine from Cali swears on them being the best, so I'll take his word for it. And yeah, Marcy is Anne's roommate. Maybe that was predictable, but hey, it's nice to imagine Anne and Marcy sticking together. Ideally Sasha would be with them as well (rather than with a slimy cheat swiping money from their company), but then I wouldn't have a story here :P</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“So...Marcy...you’re making video games now?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s question came out full of pauses and trepidation. It felt so unlike her to be talking with such hesitation—her own mother had trained her never to talk like that with anyone, especially not with anyone her classist (and possibly racist) worldview had her deem “the lower castes”—but being suddenly reunited with two close friends from long ago would make even the most confident person slightly shaky.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy and Anne didn’t seem to notice, and Sasha suspected neither of them cared that much about diction as the Waybright family did. In fact, Marcy didn’t even seem to notice the question at all, so busy she was with her sandwich and Coca Cola. She ate with the growls and slurps of a ravenous wolverine, and Anne had to smile apologetically to Sasha and nudge Marcy’s arm gently.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy stopped, and looked to Anne. “What?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne gestured to Sasha with her eyes. “Sasha just asked you a question.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, really? Sorry, Sash,” said Marcy, her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. “Sometimes I eat a little too fast and I can’t hear anything, and...well, what did you ask me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It’s no problem,” replied Sasha, waving her hand. “And I was just asking about your video ga—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“OH, you’re asking about my games?” Marcy shot up onto her feet and leaned in as far as the table would allow. Her eyes were bright and her smile wide, all full of manic enthusiasm.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh boy, you’ve opened Pandora’s box now,” muttered Anne under her smirk as she dipped a French fry in a glob of ketchup. From the way Marcy was looking at her, Sasha didn’t need to be told that.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Rubbing her hands together then clearing her throat like a professional presenter, Marcy began detailing her Ted Talk: “It all began in college. Me and Anne ended up going to the same one, though we still weren’t living together yet. I tell you this so that just in case you don’t believe what I say, Anne can back me up.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You know it!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thanks Anna Banana. Anyway, I went to college with a dream: a dream of learning how to design my own video games. To bring digital joy to children and teenagers all over the world, the same way that Nintendo and Sony brought so much joy to me when I was a children and then a teenagers. There was only problem with that, and that was the simple fact that college was <em>sooooooooooo</em> <em>buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh-ring</em>.” Marcy’s whole body slumped and a deep frown burrowed into her face. Then she straightened herself back up and smiled. “So that’s why I decided to drop out,” she said cheerily, without missing a beat.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wait, you dropped out?” exclaimed Sasha.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy nodded, still smiling. “Yep. I dropped out. I mean, come on, Sasha, most of the stuff they were teaching me was stuff I already knew! I knew c, I knew c++, and I definitely knew to keep water away from the computers, Mr. Kotlin!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“To be fair, he only started bugging you about that after you drenched two of the computers in his lab,” Anne reminded her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh right...well my point still stands. The whole thing was just boring and unnecessary. So I decided to take the money that my parents were wasting on college and use it for myself.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha smirked lightly. “I can’t imagine they were too happy about that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh no, they weren’t happy at all,” Marcy said with a snort of a laugh. “I had to move out to get away from their yelling and scolding. Luckily they’ve calmed down about it by now. They’re still not happy about it, but they’re resigned to it, and they’re happy I’m at least making some money. Ah, that’s the good thing about parents; even when they disagree with you, you know they’re just looking out for you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy didn’t notice how Sasha’s smile flickered.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anyway, I used the money to buy this place and get all that sweet computer gear you saw earlier. And then I invited Anne to live here because she’s my best friend—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Gand bekauz ‘ou neetet aomeone to ghelp mmpay rant,” said Anne through a mouth full of burger.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, yeah, I needed someone to help me pay rent, but the whole point of us paying rent together is so that we can live together! It’s like a permanent sleepover, like the ones we had back in middle school. Ooh, and the one we had in Newtopia, remember that?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne chugged down some soda and pounded her chest before she could answer. Sasha thought her struggle to get her food down looked oddly cute.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, I remember that,” said Anne. “You know, I still wonder what those things we saw in there were.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I still say they were alien salamander ghosts.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“They were not alien salamander ghosts, no way!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yes they were. You agree with me, right Sasha? Oh wait, you didn’t see them, because you were far away training to kill Anne at that time.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Heh heh, yeah.” Sasha’s face suddenly felt like lava had been poured on it. “Can we please go back to you dropping out of college and not me trying to kill people?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Right. Of course. So here’s the fun part: now that I had all my computers up and ready, I could finally begin working on my dream project of making video games. I had all the resources to go indie, so all that was left to do was gather a small team of coders and artists and sound engineers and other creative types, form our own development team, and get to work on making games. So we did! Our first game was released two years ago, and it was all about this bard journeying across a fantasy world and having the player play certain music to overcome all the trials we threw at them.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That sounds fun.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah! Too bad it sold terribly!” said Marcy, somehow still maintaining her cheeriness. “Same with our second game...actually, that one did worse, now that I think about it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh...I’m sorry to hear that,” said Sasha. And she meant it. She could sympathize with someone trying their hardest yet still failing at the market.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, don’t worry about it, the third game we released was a hit. Record sales, Youtube gamers hopping on the trend, memes flying everyone, the whole shebang. It was a good thing too, because if that game didn’t succeed, then, haha...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy trailed off, her smile slowly slipping off her face and her eyes widening as the terrifying realization hit her that she had just barely dodged losing it all.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shivered looking at her; she had seen that exact expression on her own face too many times.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne just sat back and observed it all as she chewed on her borger. </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy then snapped out of it, shaking her head and sending her black hair flailing in spite of its shortness. “Anyway, that didn’t happen, so now we’re working on our fourth game. The one I showed you our main sprite for.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Then, with a mischievous smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat, she stepped closer to Sasha and leaned in. “<em>And do you wanna hear a secret about the game we’re making now?</em>” she whispered, failing to hide the playful glee in her words.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha chuckled lightly and nodded. “Sure, what’s your secret?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy’s grin grew wider.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“The game is called Amphibiland,” she told Sasha, “and it’s based on Amphibia.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She watched Sasha’s eyes widen as she stepped back (nearly falling over her own feet; she grabbed the chair just in time, before the other girls noticed). The blonde young woman’s jaw dropped, and she looked to Marcy with concern. “Marcy, you didn’t...you didn’t tell the other people working with you about Amphibia, did you?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The game developer shook her head. “They don’t know about Amphibia. I told them it was based on a dream I had, about sapient quasi-humanoid amphibians struggling to maintain their civilizations against hordes of giant bugs and birds.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha still looked troubled by the news. She doubted anyone would ever even entertain the possibility that Marcy was basing this on real experiences, but there was something disquieting about how Marcy was just...putting their experiences out there, in the open, for everyone with a computer to see. When they came back to Earth, the three of them had sworn an oath to never tell another soul about Amphibia. It really wasn't a big deal, but it just felt strange for Marcy to put it all out there.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Still, she seemed so happy about sharing that, and so excited for the project in general. Sasha was able to push her worries to the side and put on a brave smiling face for her. “Well you go, girl,” she said, flashing her a thumbs up. “I don’t play a lot of video games, but I’d totes buy a copy when it comes out.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ooh, thank you Sash! And, while we’re on the subject, can I ask you for one little favor?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Depends. What is it?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, I’m trying to get the game’s world to be as accurate to the real version as possible. That means recreating the material conditions of the society as best as I can. The frogs are the agrarian class, the toads are the warrior class, and the newts as the ruling elite class of Amphibiland.” She stopped suddenly to tap her finger to her chin thoughtfully. “We’ve also added a few salamander and axolotl characters, but they’re just individuals. There is no Salamander City or anything like that—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, I’m not hearing a favor being asked.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, right, sorry.” Marcy tapped the side of her head. “I get distracted easily. What I wanted to ask is that since you spent more time with the toads than either of us, could you maybe help me with detailing the specifics of their culture and society?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You...you want me to tell you about the toads for your game?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. I’ve gotten everything about the newts down in my old notebooks, Anne has helped me a lot by telling me about the frogs, so it would really help me if you could maybe give me some pointers for how to write the toad characters and their wider society.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You don’t have to, though,” said Anne, “if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Bah, don’t listen to her. Listen to me! So I can listen to you!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Could I even do it? </em>Sasha looked down at her food, away from Marcy’s expectant gaze. She thought back to her time in Amphibia all those years ago. Did she remember enough about the toads to give Marcy the information she so desperately craved? Looking back on things, she realized she hadn’t paid much attention to her adoptive culture. She remembered the toads themselves, sure, but whatever culture they had she had ignored.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But it was impossible for her to have spent so much time with the Toad Army and not pick up at least a few things. Hmm...oh, well for starters they were organized in a hierarchy of strength. Captain Grime was on top and before she had taught him how to make his troops love him, he was content to shout at and berate them to get them to follow his orders. So a kratocracy without high regard for the esteem of underlings...yeah, that about summed them up.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">More things began to return to her. She remembered how some toads were diligent in muttering thanks to Frog before eating. She also remembered Braddock once telling her about a great and brave tribe of toads somewhere in the far north that tamed giant weasels and rode them into battle. She also recalled how toad poetry was quite possibly the worst in the multiverse in terms of rhyme, but had interesting stories and sagas to tell about the old toad warrior heroes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She smiled as all those miscellaneous details came back. She was glad she could still remember some things about her friends from the other world, in spite of how long ago it had been...and in spite of little she tried to actively think about that place...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her eyes flickered to Anne, and for a moment she saw the knife by her silent friend's hand as a sword.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Uh, Sasha?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Huh? What? Oh, right, no it’s fine,” she told Marcy. “I still remember a few things about the toads. I can totally hook you up.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Squealing excitedly, Marcy clapped her hands together. “This is going to be so amazing!” she declared. “I’ll finally be able to recreate a whole world with real actualized cultures and subcultures! I can follow in the footsteps of all my favorite game designers <em>and</em> my favorite fantasy writers. This is perfect, and—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She didn’t complete her sentence, as she got too excited and ended up tripping over her own feet. She grabbed the tablecloth for support but only ended up dumping her food and drink all over herself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I meant to do that,” she said from the floor.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">After Sasha helped her up and sat her back in her seat, Marcy plucked a lone fry from her hair and ate it. “So yeah, I think you can tell I’m really excited for this,” she said. “We still have a lot of work to do, but when you love what you’re doing, it doesn’t feel like work! That’s what I always say.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Indeed,” said Anne with a nod. “Now maybe you should ask Sasha about herself.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy blinked in confusion, and then her face paled. “Oh my God, I just realized I’ve been dominating the conversation and just blabbing about my brilliant work. Anne’s right, what about you, Sasha? Tell me what you’ve been up to? Did you go somewhere exciting?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shook her head and began to retell the same story she had told Anne back at the ice cream place. She told her about how she had left California for college, how she graduated and started a couple of unsuccessful enterprises, and about some of her boyfriends.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Dan wasn't amongst the boyfriends she named.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wow,” said Marcy at the end. “You’ve done a lot. Way more than either of us.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Moving to another place does that to you,” said Sasha, shrugging fake-humbly. “But I’m just happy to be back.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And we’re happy you’re back too,” said Anne, making Sasha blush. “We should do this again sometime soon. It was fun eating together and catching up. We should—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, oh, oh!” Marcy waved her arm around like an overexcited child. “You know what would be great to do again after so long? A sleepover! Sasha, stay over tonight, we can have another sleepover, just like back in middle school! We can get some more junk food, make scary dares...it’ll be fun!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, we’re too old for sleepovers.” Anne rolled her eyes, but then she suddenly looked thoughtful. Turning back to Sasha, she said, “Actually, Marcy might be on to something. This might be a weird thing to ask, but...do you have a place to stay, Sash?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Place to stay?” she repeated.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah.” Anne nodded. “You just got back here, after all, and while I know you probably have a lot of places to stay...if on the off chance you're in some place like a hotel or a motel, well, we have some extra room. You can crash with us.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha's mind flashed to the small motel room she was renting. She thought about the cold water, the weird neighbors, the loud yelling that never seemed to stop...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>This could be my way out of there.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She felt almost like a pilgrim being given quarter in a church. A stranger in a strange land, meeting two familiar faces from the past and listening to them offer her shelter. It didn’t even feel like friends helping out a friend; it felt like two twin goddesses giving their blessing to her, a meek mortal.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">And Anne fit the image; her kindly smile, her caring eyes, the aura of gentle warmth around her made her seem wholly divine, and made Sasha feel weak. Her heart fluttered looking at her friend, and her knees felt like jelly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Which was why it surprised her when she heard herself say, “Thanks, but I’m staying with my parents.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The mesmerizing spell was broken. Anne blinked, confounded. “Oh,” she said. “I thought you and your parents...uh, never mind. Well, it’s good to hear you’re staying with them. At least now I know my friend isn’t staying someplace really shitty, heh heh.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, heh heh.” Sasha’s fake laugh matched Anne’s in terms of awkwardness. In a desperate attempt to end this conversation, she looked out the window, to the darkening sky, and pretended to be surprised. “Whoa, is it this late already? I should be getting home to them right now. I have a curfew, which, yeah, I know, is weird. Like come on, Mom, I’m an adult now, cut the umbilical cord already!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, that would make an interesting creature in my game,” said Marcy. “Two adult mammalian monsters tied together by an umbilical cord that the player has to cut to defeat them.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, don’t add that, that sounds disgusting,” said Anne like a killjoy. She looked back to Sasha and nodded understandingly. “And alright, Sasha. If you have to go, you have to go. Hold on, actually, I’ll drive you home.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, there’s no need for that!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ah, come on, I brought you here, so I might as well. Plus I needed to fill the old thing up with gas anyway. Let me just go grab my keys.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha watched her dash off. With nothing else left to do, she said goodbye to Marcy (even letting her give her a tight hug of both welcome and farewell) and went to stand next to the door as she waited for Anne to come back. She leaned on the wood, her forehead pressing in edge of the door’s frame. Normally, she’d take this chance to pull out her phone, but she couldn’t muster the strength to. So instead, she decided to ask herself something important:</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Why? </em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She knew that she didn’t want to go back to the motel, so why? Why tell them that she already had a place to stay when she would much rather be with them? And on top of that, why lie and tell them that she was staying with <em>her parents </em>of all people?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She thought long and hard about that, and it wasn’t until Anne reappeared, opening the door for them and adjusting her light jacket, that she came to a conclusion.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She didn’t feel worthy of being with them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The drive was silent at first, and Sasha didn’t mind that. She was content keeping her hand over her mouth as she propped her elbow by the window and watched the world go by. Cars zipped past with red and white streams, lights came and went as bright blurs, and pedestrians shuffled together as, one by one, they got off the streets and went inside. It didn’t matter where inside was; a house, an apartment, a restaurant, a mall, whatever. Not being outside seemed to be their main  priority.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There was a melancholic feeling in it all; it was if she were watching the day die right in front of her eyes. This day, this moment she was living...it was never coming back. It only got twenty-four (<em>hey, that’s how old I am</em>) hours to live, and then it would be gone forever. Maybe something exceptional happened today and it would live on in the memories of those people who had been a part of that exceptional thing, but for the vast majority of the people on the planet, it was just another day that was consumed by time.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But that wasn't her. That wasn't her or Anne or Marcy. Something exceptional had happened to them. They all found each other again. Whether that meant that this day would live on in their memories was something for future-Sasha to know.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Thinking about the present and the future made her think about the past, and thinking about the past made her think of the one thing in her past that stood out as more exceptional than anything else.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne, can I ask you something?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Without looking away from the road, Anne said, “Shoot.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“How often do you...think about Amphibia?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There was a long silence from Anne, which concluded with a chuckle. “When we first got back, I used to think about it all the time,” said Anne. “Every single day I'd think about it. I thought I’d never stop thinking about it, never get used to being back here on Earth. But now, it’s...just something that comes and goes. Sometimes I’ll just be letting my mind wander at work, and BOOM, I’d remember that one time I was on a giant snail getting chased by giant hedgehogs.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha laughed lightly. “Yeah, it’s the same for me. Except for one person, she's always on my mind. How could I ever forget”—her hand rose as a fist, like she were holding up a sword—“GENERAL YUNAAN, SCOURGE OF THE SAND WARS, DEFEATER OF RAGNAR THE WRETCHED, AND THE YOUNGEST NEWT TO EVER ACHIEVE THE RANK OF GENERAL IN THE GREAT NEWTOPIAN ARMY?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The two broke out laughing. They laughed so hard that the drivers in the cars around them looked at them wearily, fearing they were driving intoxicated. Their laughter died down, and Anne smiled as she went back to focusing on the road.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“For me,” she said, “the people I’ll never forget from Amphibia are the Planters.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her voice was tinged with nostalgic sadness, so Sasha didn’t knew whether to push on that or not. Thankfully, Anne decided to on her own: “I think about them a lot, Sprig and Polly and Hop Pop. They weren’t just friends to me, they were family, you know? As far as they were concerned, I was their sister, their granddaughter. They made me feel like I had a place in that strange world.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I get that,” said Sasha with a nod. “That’s how I feel about...Grime.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Like you can’t even look at a toad without feeling sad?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha nodded.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah...that's how it is.” Anne leaned back in her seat slightly. The corners of her lips rose slightly, in a small smirk. “I know Marcy feels the same way too. She wouldn’t be making that Amphibiland game otherwise.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So I guess it’s up to us to help her make that game,” said Sasha. “For our sake just as much as hers.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her friend nodded, and they fell silent again, and they stayed silent until Anne reached their “destination”.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As they rolled up on the gated community where Sasha had once grown up, she felt herself gulp.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, here we are,” said Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Here we are,” Sasha repeated in a whisper.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well...see you later, Sasha Waybright.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha looked back to Anne, and smiled. “Yeah. See you later, Anne Boonchuy.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>See you later. </em>Those were the words they always exchanged before they parted ways back in high school. Which meant that the last time Sasha had said those words to her, she was lying to her face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But this time she wasn’t. This time, she really would see her again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She stepped out of the car and watched as Anne drove off with a wave. She waved goodbye until the car had disappeared, which was when she sighed and turned to the gates behind her. Standing in front of them now, they seemed much more imposing. They were tall, they were dark, they were topped with pointy tips like horns...it was like she was standing at the maw of a towering monster.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But she knew the gate wasn’t a monster. No, the real monsters were hiding behind it. The people behind the gate were rich, and they lived in the lap of luxury and security. But they did so at the expense of everyone else, and they knew it. That’s why they hid away behind their gates and armed guards—to keep the vengeful masses away from what they had taken from them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But still, she remembered that luxury, and she wanted to be let in. If she asked to be let in...would they let her in?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her phone was in her purse—it would be so easy to call her parents and ask them to let her stay with them. They wouldn’t turn her away, especially not when she was in front of the gate where any of their wealthy friends could see her. That would be quite the scandal, what would people whisper about them at the next cocktail party?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">All it would take was one call, and she could sleep in her old bed, bathe in her old shower...just one call!</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha stood in front of the gate, motionless other than her hands twitching to reach into her purse.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Two minutes later, she turned away from the gate and began her long walk back to the motel.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">With a swift crescent-shaped slash through the air, Sasha’s sword cut through Anne’s neck and her head fell onto the grass.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">At least, that’s how she imagined it. When she opened her eyes, her angry, frustrated imaginations faded away and she looked down to see that it was only the hay-filled head of the Anne dummy she had built laying on the ground. With a grunt of frustration, she kicked the rest of its wooden body down and stomped over to a nearby rock to sit on it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It made for a smooth seat, if a bit too hard.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I have to keep training,” she told herself in a ragged, determined whisper. "I won't let myself lose to her next time I see her.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She tried to get back up to train some more, but her legs failed her. She buckled under her own weight and fell back on the stone. Taking this as a cue to take a real break, she sighed hoarsely and let her sword fall out of her hand. </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha had never been one to gaze up at the sky back on Earth, but here in Amphibia, she frequently found herself looking up wistfully at it. It seemed more colorful and vivid here—“Must be because of less light pollution,” she figured—but more importantly, she found that looking up and watching the clouds drift by was relaxing. And boy did she need more relaxing here than back on Earth. Everything made sense on Earth! There were no talking toads, there were no giant bugs, there were no...no...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She sighed again. “Oh, who am I kidding? It’s not the bugs and frogs that don’t make sense. It’s...<em>her</em>.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne Boonchuy. Anne was what didn’t make sense.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Rage swelled in her chest, growing so hatefully large that it almost choked her. Everything from that night at the tower replayed in her mind. She seemed so different then, so dismissive of their friendship, so callous to her and everything she had ever done for her for absolutely no reason at all...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>But there was a reason, </em>a nibbling voice at the back of her mind told her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Shut up,” she growled. “So I wasn’t the best friend I could’ve been...so? She wasn’t perfect either. And I was actually trying to find her in this crazy place. I wanted to get us back! And then she ditches me for...for...for some fucking frogs?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sky started to get blurry. It took a moment before Sasha realized she was starting to cry.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She rose up and quickly batted the tears from her eyes. There was dirt on her gloves but she didn’t care, better for her eyes to sting from grime than to sting for Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Once she stopped rubbing her face, she sat, slumped, her hands near the ground and her face staring down at it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I tried,” she told herself. “I tried to be a good friend.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She then thought about the end of their encounter: the tower was falling, and Sasha was about to fall with it until Anne grabbed her and tried to pull her up. And she didn’t let her. She let go, she let herself fall, and if it weren’t for timely intervention, she would have let herself die.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">What emotions were swirling in her mind at that moment? What thoughts could’ve driven her to throw it all away?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Hey, Anne...maybe you’re better off without me.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She shook her head like a dog shaking off ticks. There was a strong, deep guilt residing inside her, but she didn’t want it there. She wanted it gone, and if it wasn’t going to go away after hours and hours of rationalization and self-justification, then Sasha figured the best she could do was ignore it and pretend it went away.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Maybe, if she pretended hard enough, it actually would.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But when she pushed thoughts of guilt out of her mind, other thoughts rushed to take their place. Thoughts of malice, hate, and scorn. Not directed towards Anne, but directed towards herself. And fittingly, they came to her in the voice of her mother.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Didn’t I tell you? </em>her mother whispered smugly, knowingly, cruelly. <em>I knew this would happen.</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, you didn’t,” Sasha shot back. “How could you have possibly known I was going to end up here?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha blinked in confusion—her mother’s voice sounded different now. Like she was actually with her...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A hand fell on her shoulder, and Sasha gasped. She picked her sword off the ground and spun to face whoever had dared place their hand on her...only to lower it at the sight of Mrs. Waybright.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“M-Mom?” she said in disbelief. “How are you—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Never mind how I’m here,” her mother said, running her hand through her long golden hair. “Let’s talk about you, and that dreadful habit you’ve picked up of talking back to me. It’s almost as bad as that stutter.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I-I don’t get it, h-how are you...I mean, I don’t understand, how are you even here? Wait, is this a hallucination? Did I touch some weird frog plant?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Mrs. Waybright ignored her daughter’s rapid questions. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, waiting for her to finish. Once she did, she let a smirk crawl onto her pink lips. It was with that smirk that made Sasha see that it really was her mother; just as before, she was impeccably groomed and manicured and dressed. Her hair was long and silky, her skin smooth and unblemished, her clothes high-class with a clean white sweater, long black dress, and a necklace of pearls. Everything about her screamed that she was the Waybright ideal.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The contrast with the Waybright child next to her, with frazzled hair, grimy brown armor, and both scars and dirt-marks littering her face and body, only made that more evident.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Are you quite done babbling?” Before her daughter could answer, she said, “Good. Now then...can you tell me what lesson you learned from that dreadful night at the tower?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Mrs. Waybright rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to spell it out for you,” she said, deep annoyance permeating every word. “This is what happens when you make friends.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha didn’t say anything at first. She seemed like she was still trying to decide if this was really her mother or not. But she was also listening, so Mrs. Waybright continued, “You tried to be friends with those two girls. And friendship is not the Waybright way. Not the way you went about it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So what should I have done?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Simple, dear child: <em>subjugate them</em>.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her voice was so chilly it made the plains around them turn cold.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What? Subjugate?” squeaked Sasha. Her heart skipped.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmm, perhaps that wasn’t the correct word. My mistake, I was simply dwelling on the...<em>nature </em>of your friends,” said the wealthy blonde woman. She tapped her lower lip as she tried thinking up a better way to explain herself. When it came to her, her smile deepened.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What I meant to say is that you made a mistake in making them equals. What you should have done is made them work for you, not with you. After all, surely you would agree that it would be nice to have servants waiting on your commands, do you not? Wouldn’t it be nice if you could tell them exactly what to do and have them love you for it?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, don’t tell me, I already know. You’ve walked that path to an extent. ‘End of discussion,’ what a wonderfully Pavlovian phrase. But—” here she wagged her finger—“you ruined it all with that stupid little suicidal jump of yours. Now you’ve affirmed her to be in the right and you in the wrong. You need to fix that, and fix your earlier mistakes too. You did good to manipulate them, but you did so because you wanted to be their friend. Now you do it for the right reasons.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And what if I don’t want to?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When Sasha said that, her mother recoiled in disgust, as if her daughter had said something unspeakably vulgar and foul. Her eyes hardened in anger, and she stepped closer to the young woman. Before Sasha could react, her mother grabbed her face, digging her fingers and thumb into her cheeks. Sasha almost screamed; it felt like thorns were emerging from her fingertips to press into her skin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With strength beyond that of any middle-aged woman, she lifted her daughter off her feet and into the air. She brought her to her face, the tips of their noses touching. She bared her teeth like a wolf, and as Sasha was struggling, she noticed just how sharp all her teeth were.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And why,” she said slowly, in the voice of death, “would you not want that?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Then something seemed to occur to her, something that seemed to make even her afraid. Her black eyes widened and her face paled. She reached to Sasha’s right eye and held it wide open as Sasha struggled to bat her arm away. She studied her eye deeply, and when she seemed to find what she was looking for, she growled in displeasure.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So...that explains it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Aagh!” cried Sasha as she was thrown to the ground. She rubbed her sore cheeks and eye, then looked up in fury. With the speed of lightning, she jumped to her sword and raised it at her mother as she took a defensive position on the ground, but her mother’s only response was a raising of her hand.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, I understand now,” she said. “A secret you’ve buried so deep that even I couldn’t see it at first. Very well, do what you will, you...dirty little girl.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha made the mistake of blinking before she said anything in return. The moment she reopened her eyes, the thing that looked like her mother was gone.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Still, Sasha didn’t stand up at first. She stayed on the ground, exhaling angry breaths, and keeping her sword pointed at the now-empty space as best she could, no matter how much it shook in her quaking hands.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>What was that? How did she know so much about me? And why...why do I feel like I always do when Mother scolds me?</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">For the second time that afternoon, a hand fell on her shoulder.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Uh, Sasha?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha spun around and found herself pressing the tip of her blade to Braddock’s throat.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ah, ah, I’m so sorry! C-Commander Sasha, I should’ve called you Commander,” cried out the poor toad.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, wait!” Embarrassed, Sasha withdrew her blade and stood up. She patted Braddock on the arm, in a form of comforting apology. “I’m so sorry, you just caught me by surprise. I was...well, something happened, but still I’m sorry.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I-It’s okay, Commander. I...I deserved it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The face of her mother flashed through her mind at that moment.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, you didn’t,” said Sasha firmly, both to the toad and to the words of her mother. “At ease, soldier. At ease.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With that, the toad relaxed slightly. Sasha tried smiling comfortingly at her, but her own emotional turmoil was evident in it. Braddock didn’t ask about it thought—not because she didn’t care about her commanding officer (and hopefully friend), but out of fear of Sasha’s sword returning to its place at her light yellow throat.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thank you, Commander Sasha.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Just Sasha is fine. Or Sash, if we’re feeling really casual.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay. So, uh, <em>Sash</em>...I came to report to you on something Percy reported to me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh?” Sasha looked intrigued. “What is it?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It’s, erm, your human friend. Percy said he found her in a tent in the woods.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What?! You found Anne?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Braddock nodded slowly, confirming what she had just said.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha didn’t wait another second; she instantly broke into a run back to their little hideout. She kicked down the door and peered in. “Grime,” she barked. “Braddock and Percy found Anne.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The news didn’t seem of note to the one-eyed toad. He hardly moved at the sound of the door being smashed down, nor at the voice of his lieutenant. The toad simply scratched his beard, particles and crumbs falling out, and grunted as he shifted in his seat. He didn’t even look away from whatever he was watching on Sasha’s phone.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Is that so?” he grunted. “Which one was Anne again?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“The other human. The one like me but with leaves in her hair,” said Sasha. “They reported that she’s nearby, so come on, get your butt into gear and let’s go already.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Grime let out a growl that suggested that getting up was the last thing he’d ever want to do. He waved his hand dismissively. “Who cares? Let her have fun on her camping trip.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha exhaled loudly in her irritation. This was the same song and dance she’d been going through with Grime. Every day she tried getting him to get up, every day he refused. But not today; today Anne was close, and there was no guarantee she’d be close tomorrow. There was no guarantee she would be close in ten minutes! Sasha decided to cut her losses and just rush outside with a throaty, irritated groan.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Stay here with the Captain!” Sasha ordered Braddock and Percy, who was suddenly there. “I’m going alone.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But Sasha—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But Sasha was already gone, running through the woods like a leopard. She jumped between branches and brushes, surveyed whenever she needed to stop, and most of all, kept the hunt in her mind. Her heart pounded furiously, her face was hot, and every thought she had was of Anne, Anne, Anne, Anne!</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When she came upon a lone tent, glowing from the inside, she didn’t hesitate. She drew her sword from its scabbard and cut the fabric entrance down.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne!” she shouted as she entered.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She found Anne in the tent, but she also found the impossible.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">What had been from the outside a normal tent revealed itself to be, on the inside, an expansive room, dark except for the golden light of the strewn-about candles and silver light of the moon that poured in from the tinted windows. There were rose petals scattered along the floor, red and pink and even blue. And at the center of it all...was Anne, laying stretched on a large queen-sized bed, wearing a see-through nightgown which just barely revealed her enticing body and hard nipples.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When Anne saw Sasha, she winked seductively. “Welcome, Sash,” she said in a slow, husky voice.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha stepped back, confused and blushing. “Anne, w-what is this?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Smirking, Anne rose to her feet and began walking towards Sasha. She walked with deliberation, her hips swaying and her eyes half-lidded. Sasha felt paralyzed as this lustful Anne came closer to her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Giggling, she grabbed onto Sasha, wrapping her lean arms around her neck and raising one foot in the air, pressing her knee into Sasha’s nethers. Blushing harder than she ever had before in her life, Sasha could only weakly close her eyes as Anne began trailing kisses along her neck and face, until she reached her ear.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“A-Anne...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You asked me what this is,” she said with the undertones of a purr, “so I’ll tell you now...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She nibbled Sasha’s ear, then whispered:</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“<em>Everything you’ve ever wanted.</em>”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s eyes shot open instantly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It took her a while to remind herself where she was, but the lingering sour smell of sweaty clothes and the rugged raw screaming from next door helped her orient herself. She wasn’t in Amphibia, she was here on Earth, in her cheap motel room, in a frigid bed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her heart was pounding, and her limbs felt numb. Despite the loud yelling of the neighbors, she could hear her own breaths. But what struck her most of all was the unmistakable sense of fleeting ecstasy. Most of her body was cold, but her, erm, <em>privates, </em>felt warm. Steaming, even.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It was just a dream, Sasha,” she told herself as she put a hand on her forehead. “It was just a dream.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was a nightmare brought on by exhaustion, she figured. She should’ve known it was a dream, really. How did her dream self not notice all the crazy stuff that happened? She chuckled lightly until the memories of her dream came to hit her in waves.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She had dreamed of Amphibia, of her mom...and of Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her mental projections of a sultry Anne made her shiver again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She sat up in her bed, holding onto herself. Worry was etched deeply into the lines of her face. She blinked rapidly, as if that would help somehow, and when it didn’t she got frustrated and kicked at her mattress.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was happening again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>No, no, no, </em>she thought, <em>it’s not happening again. It’s not the same as before. You...it...it’s not the same as before.</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She lay back down with a sigh; the sigh of the tormented soul. She rolled onto her side, her ribs leaving their imprint on the mattress. She let her mind wander, thinking about how now was not the same as before...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Alright, girls, say cheese!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“CHEESE!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The camera flashed brightly, and were it not for her parents training her for the camera, Sasha would’ve blinked. Anne and Marcy on either side of her, on the other hand, did blink, and they just broke out laughing about it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Come on, girls,” said Marcy’s dad. “Just one good picture so I can go eat those ham rolls before someone else gets to them.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Alright, alright, Dad, we’re ready.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay. Three...two...one...CHEESE!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He took the picture, and this time it was good.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As Marcy’s dad rushed towards his beloved ham, Sasha didn’t drop her smile. Today was high school graduation day, the day she had been working towards ever since she had the mental ability to work towards something. All around them, teachers and faculty, students and their families, were gathered to celebrate the graduates of 2024. The ceremony had concluded minutes ago, and now everyone was gathered for the annual graduation dinner party. There was laughter, there was crying, and there was indistinct chatter about what to do now.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“We should probably get some food too. I’m <em>famished!</em>” said Marcy, obviously with her priorities about what to do now in check.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, I could eat,” said Anne. “How about you, Sash?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmm? Oh, sure, let’s do...that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Aw, Sasha, were you not listening?” asked Marcy. “Tonight’s a special night, you shouldn’t waste it daydreaming! Or, since it's nighttime...it is just regular dreaming?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne had a different response; one that was more readily communicated by her slight frown. She looked at Marcy and said, “Actually, Mar Mar, I think you should go ahead in front us. Get some food and save us some seats.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s heart pulsed by her words, and her cheeks pinkened. <em>Me? And Anne? Alone?</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Really? You sure?” asked Marcy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne nodded. “We’ll catch up.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy walked off, and Anne turned to Sasha, who looked at her with a slightly cocked brow. “Hey, just wanted to let you know, you looked really good out there, girlfriend,” said Anne. “Really elegant. I bet I looked kinda clumsy, huh?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha took a deep, calming breath. <em>Calm down, Sasha, she’s just your friend, talk to her like you always would</em>.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It was difficult to talk to her like always when she wearing a fine dress with just enough eyeliner and gloss to accentuate rather than exaggerate, but Sasha did her best.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nah, you looked good. Like, really good.” Then, just before her face warmed again: “It’s not your fault Lincoln stood up too early.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, he obviously bumped into me! I swear, if I had lost my balance and fell, I would be over there next to him right now, shredding him to pieces with my bare hands.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And I’d be helping you,” said Sasha with a light laugh. “But let’s be real, you didn’t tell Marcy to go ahead so we could share mean jokes about Lincoln. What’s up?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne smiled weakly. “Sharp as ever, Waybright.” Her smile then fell. “And I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked a little out of it just now.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay? Yeah, of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be okay?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, not to step on any toes or anything, but your parents—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, <em>that</em>. It’s fine, Anne,” said Sasha, rolling her eyes. “They’re just really busy. What do you expect them to do, cut off important business dealings in Tunisia just so they can watch me walk a stage? Um, hello, that’s what video was created for.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne looked like she wanted to press on the point, but thought better of it. “If you say so,” she said weakly. Then, with an attempt at an encouraging smile: “At least your cousin decided to come.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. Good thing he’s here.” Sasha looked through the crowd and saw her cousin on the other side of the room, chatting it up with a blushing Maggie who just wouldn’t knock it off with the fake laughs. She had just turned eighteen two weeks ago, and a revolted Sasha knew exactly what her sleazy cousin had in mind for her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She brushed it off and looked back at Anne. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if my parents or my cousin or my whoever else is here. I’m just glad you and Marcy are here too.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ohhh, Sasha, when did you get a sentimental side?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“It’s graduation, nerd, who wouldn’t be sentimental?” responded Sasha, playfully sticking out her tongue.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“We’ve been through enough to earn it. How many other people here do you think got transported to another world?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Maybe someone else did. Maybe they don’t talk about it, just like we don’t. Like, uh, that weirdo Luz. She was gone for a while a few years ago, remember?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, but if Luz was gone, she would’ve let <em>everyone </em>know about it. ‘I got to go to a magical world, just like the Good Witch Azura in Book Number 763!’”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne, you’re so mean!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You started it by calling her a weirdo!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha just shrugged her shoulders and laughed, and when she was done laughing, she looked fondly at Anne. “Thanks, I needed this,” she told her. “I know being friends with me wasn’t the easiest thing in the world—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You can say that again.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha punched her friend’s arm lightly. “—but I appreciate it. Thanks Anne, this whole school thing would’ve been a lot different without you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Same here, Sash. Same here.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The way Anne looked at her...it was enough to make her want to melt. Those warm brown eyes pierced right into her soul, made her feel amazing. She didn’t want to admit it, but her parents not being there for her did hurt a lot. But being here, alone with Anne...it made all that pain go away, and replaced it with stirring of love.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But that was, despite how good it felt, a problem.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Being in love with Anne was a problem.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Which was why, after everyone had gone home, Sasha resolved to never speak to either her or Marcy again. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how badly she wanted to...she couldn’t.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her parents wouldn’t allow it—they would throw her out on the street, cut her out of their inheritance, and pretend she never existed. But she couldn’t just be friends with Anne either. Her heart wouldn’t allow it. Every moment she spent with Anne was pleasure and pain; pleasure to be in the presence of someone so wonderful, painful to not be able to tell them so.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">So what did she do, stuck with a friend who couldn’t just stay a friend and parents who refused to notice her unless she did something to displease them?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Simple: she ran. She ran and ran and ran until she was on the other side of the country. She drowned in boys, trying to forget Anne. She developed business after business, trying to gain financial freedom from her parents.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But now,” she whispered when woke up from her second flashback of a dream, “I’m back at Square One.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She was back in California. She desperately needed money, and knew that asking her parents for help wasn’t too far into the future. And most importantly of all:</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’m still in love with Anne Boonchuy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have a lot of notes to make, so let's put them in a list:</p>
<p>1. If Sasha's reasoning and logic in this chapter seemed slightly off or unsound, don't worry, there's a reason for that. Well, a reason besides me writing this in between massive loads of schoolwork. Suffice to say, there's more going on with poor Sasha.<br/>2. A lot of this was inspired by (that's writerspeak for "stolen from") a fic titled "Bad Influence" by sleeepov3r. If you somehow haven't read their story yet, do so ASAP. They approached the topic fantastically, and I can't give them enough credit.<br/>3. I've been thinking about trying my hand at an Owl House fanfiction sometime, which was probably why Luz was on the mind while I was writing this one. I have a few ideas, I'm just hoping for the time to write one of them out.<br/>4. Thank you all for reading so far, and for dropping kudos and reviews and the like. Means a lot :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">The morning sun rose and found Sasha sore and exhausted. The flashbacks and dreams never stopped coming as she fell asleep and woke up and fell back asleep again and entered strange meditative trances of half-sleep where past, present, future, fantasy, and nightmare were all one in the same, a snaking ouroboros of the phenomenal world, with no clear beginning or end or division along its body, a body that taunted and toyed with her mind for what felt like both minutes and eons.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Put more simply, she slept poorly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But at least she knew she was awake now, as she stretched her limbs in her bed. What was happening to her now was real; the day had started, and no matter what, she had to embrace it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>But do I really? I don’t have a job or anything like that. If I wanted to, I could just stay in bed all day…</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Then Anne came to mind, and Sasha was struck by a sudden feeling of acute shame. Anne wouldn’t approve of her staying in bed all day, so neither should she approve that for herself! She stood up and went into the bathroom to shower.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Thoughts of Anne stayed with her as the warm water fell on her naked flesh. Sighing with both disappointment and discontent, she pressed her forehead to the tiles on the wall. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth as she imagined her brain pushing Anne Boonchuy away, but that only resulted in a new steamy daydream of Anne turning around with a smile, falling on her brain with her arms wrapped tightly around it, peppering it with kisses, and her brain now looking less like a brain and more like her…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ugh!” She slammed her fist hard into the wall. It hurt instantly, so she held it limply under the shower head, as though what was spilling out of it was healing holy water. It did feel better for a moment...until the temperature dropped significantly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha sighed. “Guess that’s my hot water allowance for the day.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She didn’t get out yet though—not just because she still needed time to shampoo her hair, but because there was comfort in being hidden behind the curtain, isolated from the large world out there. Long ago, there was a Sasha that would’ve faced the world head-on, but that Sasha went missing somewhere on the East Coast. Sasha suspected that she had been dismembered by all the boys she had broken up with, and each took home a part of her. Dan probably took the most from her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Well, he did literally take the most from me. That company I set up with him is probably entirely in his hands now.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">That was fine, he could have it. If he ever sent lawyers after her to sign some paperwork or another, she’d do it without hesitation. She was moving on with her life now...but moving on to what exactly?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Again, Anne was the first thing that came to mind.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She shook her head, water droplets flying around. “Not Anne,” she told herself quietly, so quiet she couldn’t even hear it under the hissing of the shower. But she knew what she had said, and she knew why.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Thoughts of being with Anne conjured the specter of her mother. A haunting, dark specter looming over her, so close it almost felt like she was there in the shower, standing right behind her…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha looked over her shoulder to make sure. When she realized what she was doing, she snorted lightly. “What am I even doing?” she murmured.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her snort became a quick, short laugh, and that laugh was followed by another, which precipitated another, and before she knew it she was laughing like someone had just told her the world’s funniest joke. It took a long while for her laughter to die down, and when it did, she just took her wet finger and wiped at her eyes, ironically making them wetter.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, at least I know I’m not dreaming now,” she said. “No moms standing over this girl’s shoulder, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With that, she shampooed her hair, scrubbed her body with a red bath loofa, and stepped out of the shower to tidy herself up afterwards.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The sensory memory of the water suddenly going cold reminded her of her material situation as she tied her hair into a ponytail. Thinking about her former business partner did too. The money she had stashed with her wasn’t going to last forever, and once it ran out, her big concern wouldn’t be how cold the shower water was, but instead whether she could get water to shower with at all.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As much as it pained her to admit it, she had to get a job.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And I thought the whole point of entrepreneurship was to avoid waging my life away,” said Sasha with a sigh. But then she straightened her back and pumped herself up: “It’ll just be until I get a foothold. Yeah, a temporary thing. And once I do get myself back together, there’s no limit to what I’ll be able to do. I have a business degree, I can do anything!” she announced to the world triumphantly. </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Five minutes later, she was tearing through a newspaper she had swiped from the neighbors, looking for whatever job she could get with a look of disgust plain on her face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Exterminator? Yeah, no thanks, Amphibia gave me enough bugs to last me a lifetime.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sports editor for local news? Eh, maybe. I’ve cheerleaded at a few football games, I could probably...oh wait, it’s mostly baseball, never mind.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Masseur? I guess I could...oh, wait, it’s for men only. Okay, whatever...perverts...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha felt like she was being too picky—which she’d admit she was, to an extent. But any commitment she’d make, even a temporary one, needed to be something she wouldn’t mind too much. No point paying for a residence she hated with money from a job she hated, she figured. Perhaps that was a reflection of being spoiled, but she couldn’t help it! She grew up well-to-do and even just reading through this list of jobs that were completely beneath her activated her most rejecting impulses.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But finally, after a long search, her index finger pointed at something that didn’t seem too bad.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Slammin’ Donuts is hiring?” she read aloud, pressing her nose into the newspaper. A smile slowly spread across her face. “Well that’s not too bad. I love donuts.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She stood up and tore out the ad from the rest of the paper. She held the cutout in her hands like Charlie and his Golden Ticket. She took out her phone, dialed the number printed in bold yellow, and less than ten minutes later, secured herself a job interview.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Two days! In two days, I’m getting my first real job!” she shouted triumphantly. "Just two more da—"</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey, will you shut the fuck up?!” yelled her neighbors, presumably annoyed that Sasha’s shouting was keeping them from hearing each other’s shouting.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">So as not to incur their verbal wrath again, Sasha put her hands on her cheeks and squealed happily, quietly, to herself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p><hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When the day of the interview came, Sasha realized that she might be slightly out of her area of expertise.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">In the past, Sasha had met with potential investors and other members of higher business society, and she had dressed appropriately. But an interview for a job of throwing donuts into the mouths of hungry teenagers and people with teleplays to write probably wasn’t going to call for elegant suits and dresses and cufflinks...right?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">And therein was her problem; she didn’t know what to wear.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well it can’t be too formal,” said a half-nude Sasha, currently clothed in only light lilac underwear and bra, eyeing the clothes she had scattered on her bed for study. She was about to reach for a simple red shirt when her hand stalled. “Or should it be? An interview is an interview, no matter what the job entails. But then maybe they’ll think I’m too good for them? Well, yeah, pssh, of course I’m too good for them...but then wouldn’t it look like I’m flaunting that I know that I’m too good for them?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She sighed. This was harder than she thought it would be.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She reached for her phone to search for an answer, but just her luck, the Internet was out. Groaning in frustration, she sank into her bed, sitting on some of her clothes in the process. Not that she cared; her mind was in another place now.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her thumb tapped the phone icon at the bottom of her screen, and a list of contacts came up,</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her thumb hovered over the name ANNE.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She hadn’t spoken to Anne since that car ride back to her parent’s place. Part of her tried to justify it as figuring Anne was busy and wouldn’t want to be bothered, but she couldn’t even convince herself that that was the truth. The truth wasn’t so noble or courageous; it was selfish and cowardly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Now that she knew for certain that she was still in love with her, she wanted to do what she did before and just stay away. Even now, just looking at something as simple as her name, she could feel her body twitching and warming uncomfortably. Butterflies rose to dance in her stomach and icy hot goosebumps erupted over her arms.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She heard contradictory voices, each at different volumes; the soft and friendly voices of Anne and Marcy clashed feebly with the bombastic, aggressive, demeaning voices of her parents, of her mother explaining what a proper woman was to be like and of her father ranting angrily about the homosexuals he publicly adored and privately deplored so much.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Was that it? Was that the source of her fears? Good ole Mom and Dad instilling in her a hatred of herself, of her own desires?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The clock was ticking, and she needed clothes for the interview more than she needed self-psychotherapy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Deep breath. “<em>Three...two...one...</em>”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Before she could stop herself or think twice about it, she hit the call button.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She dropped the phone like a grenade and lifted her arm defensively. She felt the vibrations it sent out on her knees and watched the screen to see if Anne would pick up. A little too late, Sasha realized she hadn’t prepared what she wanted to say or how she wanted to excuse herself for not calling her sooner. Maybe Anne wouldn’t mind that she didn't call sooner? Anne could’ve always called her, right? Right?!</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She heard a crackle coming from the phone, and in defiance of her unavailing anxiety, scooped it up and pressed it to her ear. “H-Hello? Anne?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Nope. Anne’s in the bathroom!” exclaimed Marcy on the other side. “This is Marcy Wu, who am I speaking to?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, you can see the caller ID.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I know. I just like using that rhyme.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha let out a relieved breath, and smiled. She wasn’t expecting Marcy, but maybe it was better this way. God knows how much of a wreck she would’ve been if Anne had picked up, heh heh...heh.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well I know I called for Anne, but it’s good to hear from you, Marcy.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Likewise. The other night was, like, <em>soooo</em> much fun. We ate those amazing burgers and I tripped all over myself and you told me you’d help me with my game—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And I will, I will. I promise, as soon as I get some free time. But right now, I’m in a rush and I need some help.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Help? What kind of help?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Uh, the kind where I don’t know how much help you can be, honestly.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, come on, Sasha, I promise I’ll be as helpful as I can be. Hey, we can actually make this like a trade. I help you out now as payment for you helping me with my game. Come on, Sasha, help me help you help me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Well, it’s not like you have any other options, </em>Sasha's inner self told her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She sighed. According to no better primary source than Marcy herself, she had never graduated from college and never had to look for a job before she dove into the world of game design. She wasn’t sure how much help she could offer now with an interview for retailing.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Still, she sounded so earnest in her desire to help that Sasha couldn’t turn her away. “Okay,” said Sasha. “So basically I’m going to be going into a job interview today—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oooh, what kind of job interview? Someone with your skills...it’s gotta be accountant, right? Oh, or maybe VP of some big company.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, that’s not how VPs work.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You learn something new every day. So, what is it?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It shamed Sasha to think how surprised Marcy was when she answered, “Slammin’ Donuts.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There was a pause on the other side.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Like...CEO of Slammin’ Donuts?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“CFO?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Just a normal employee, Marcy.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh...I see.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, a-anyway,” said Sasha, trying to brush past this swiftly, “I have an interview in a few, and I’m trying to decide what to wear, but I just can’t choose anything good.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Why not?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Because I tell if I’m supposed to be formal or informal or somewhere in between.” She sighed. “That’s why I called Anne, so she could at least tell me what she wore to her interview at the ice cream place.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmmmm...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There was a pause, and Sasha wondered what Marcy was thinking about. When she heard her speak again, she didn’t offer an answer but a question of her own: “I don’t know, Sasha, but to me it sounds like...well, I don’t know about you, but don’t you think you might be overthinking it?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Overthinking it?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, it’s just a job serving donuts, you don’t have to think too hard about what to wear. Just...wear something you could see yourself wearing to school, I guess.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That...that...that actually makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She heard a chuckle from the receiver. “Knowing you, you were probably considering wearing a sparkly dress or something”—Sasha covered the dress at her side with her arm, hiding it from Marcy's nonpresent eyes—“but don’t worry too much about it. You can wear whatever and I’m sure they’ll hire you, because who wouldn’t want to hire someone like you?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Aww, Marcy, you really think so?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Of course. You’re smart, you’re capable, you’re good with people when you want to be...honestly, the fact that someone like you is looking for a job like this should make your interviewer believe in miracles again. Well, assuming that they don’t already believe in miracles. They could be Christian...or an Ammonite.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, right, it’s a religion I made up for Amphibiland. Sorry, sometimes I forget there’s a difference between my games and real life.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha laughed briskly. Even now, it still amazed her how Marcy was still the same as before. Unlike her, that girl had managed to hold onto who she was, and found success in herself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Compare and contrast with her…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She didn’t have time to dwell on her own dissatisfaction, she still had an interview to get to. “Thanks Marcy,” she said as she grabbed a white shirt and light jacket, and quickly hurried to shove them onto her body. When her head popped out of the shirt’s largest hole, she continued, “You’ve been more help than you could ever know.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I mean, it’s just clothes, but you’re welcome. Anything for a friend.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anything for a friend, yeah. Which reminds me, once I clear up my schedule with my potential employers, I’ll be sure to drop by on the first free day I have.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So we can talk about the toads?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Smirking, Sasha replied, “We can talk about the toads all day long. See you then, Marcy. And make sure...make sure to tell Anne I said hi.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No problemo. Break a leg!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It always struck Sasha as grim that a phrase like "break a leg" was associated with good luck, even knowing the superstitious origins of it. It was just one of those quirks of Anglosphere culture, she supposed. In any case, she appreciated Marcy’s gruesome wish of luck, and hung up the phone and put her clothes on, brimming with newfound confidence for her interview.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">On the other side of the call, Marcy was just about to put the phone back in place when it was suddenly snatched from her hand. She jumped back, startled, and met the unamused glower of none other than her roommate Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, were you talking on my phone?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ho ho...what? Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-yes.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne let out the exasperated sigh of a mother dealing with a particularly naughty child. “Marcy, we’ve been over this before, you can’t keep doing this.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But it was different this time, Anne. It was Sasha!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sasha?” Suddenly, Anne was intrigued rather than annoyed. “Sasha called me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, but you were in the bathroom, and well Sasha is a mutual friend, so I thought you wouldn’t mind too much. She called for some advice about—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy stopped for a moment. She then smiled a shrewd smile.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Actually, I think it’ll be more fun as a surprise,” she said with playful cackle.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, seriously, that was my call, I have a right to know.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Not telling you, not telling you~”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“MARCYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p><hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha’s interviewer was a squat, round man named Theo, who spoke with hints of an accent that she couldn’t place. He had a deep glower emanating from his sunken eye, and his mouth always seemed to be leaning into a frown.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Despite all this, the interview she had with him was a purely professional rather than negative experience. He didn’t rush her, didn’t make snide remarks, didn't groan or roll his eyes, didn’t ask any questions that felt unfair or unnecessary. And now he was looking over her resume for the third time. From the way his eyebrow cocked from time to time as he read, she could tell he was surprised that someone as experienced and educated as her wanted to work a job like this (that’s probably why he kept checking, to make sure he was reading it right), but he never pressed her on it. Whether that was good or bad interviewer etiquette, she appreciated that she wouldn’t have to explain herself too much.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">When he set the paper down, she straightened herself out. “One last question,” he said.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha nodded.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Right now, if I came to you and asked you for two donuts, two hash browns, a muffin, and a vanilla chai, how much would that cost me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Umm...rounded up?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He shrugged. “Sure.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha did some quick mental math, with more than just a bit of guesswork. “13.50 dollars?” she guessed weakly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Theo reached into his desk and pulled out a menu and a calculator. He punched in the numbers and when he got his results, he nodded. “You were off by twenty-three cents. Not bad.” He stood up and leaned in, the corners of his frown twitching upwards like he was trying to smile. “I don't see any reason why not to hire you. Welcome abroad, Ms. Waybright,” he said, extending his hand.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha stood up, took his hand, and shook it, all the while keeping a professional smile on her face. On the inside, though, she was ecstatic, excited, glowing with energy! The hardest part of this interview was not jumping cheerfully around right now.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">One had to wonder why a woman who had once been a high-level entrepreneur in New York City was so thrilled by the opportunity to work minimum wage for a donut franchise…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thank you so much, sir,” she said with gratitude. “Now, about my schedule—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, I won’t be giving you your schedule,” he told her. Noticing her confusion, he clarified: “You won’t be working here. Not at this location, exactly. We filled the vacancy here.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But...but then where will I be working?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Another location, on the other side of town,” he clarified. “You’re actually in luck here, because they just called earlier and told us someone there quit and they need a replacement."</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So I’m getting transferred?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Theo shrugged. “Basically,” he grunted.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha tried to huff or do anything else to indicate irritation. It seemed so inefficient for her not to be interviewed at <em>that</em> location, but ultimately she decided it wasn’t really a big deal.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So where is this place?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">He held up his finger as he picked up his phone and started tapping the screen. He handed her the mobile and she looked at the screen. It was a map of the town, with her future place of work pinned in the middle.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It took her a moment to recognize where it was, but when she did, she gasped in shock.</p>
<p class="western"> </p><hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Did you hear, Anne? The donut guys next door got someone to replace Eli.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Aww, but I liked Eli. No way anyone could replace him,” Anne said to Cynthia as she dropped another scoop of pistachio ice cream in a paper cup. She handed it to the little boy on the other side of the counter and accepted payment from his mother, then turned back to her coworker. “Why did he even quit anyway?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don’t know. I heard from Kunal that he just got sick of the pay, but I also heard from Troy that he moved to Kazakhstan to work with aliens gathered by the Soviets sixty years ago!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne rolled her eyes. “Troy’s just messing with you, it’s what he does.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Right. I...I knew that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I just wonder what the new person is going to be like,” said Anne. “And I really hope they’re not like that guy James from a few months. He was so weird. Remember when he got his hand stuck in the toilet?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Before Cynthia could respond to that, the door opened, accompanied by the pleasant chime of the bell above it. Anne turned to the doorway, and saw, to her delight, Sasha standing there. She was just about to wave her over when she noticed something...odd about her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She wasn’t wearing normal clothes. In fact, her clothes looked a lot like...a Slammin’ Donuts uniform.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It took a minute for it to click, but when it did, Anne’s eyes widened and her finger shot forward, pointing dead at Sasha.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sasha...you...here...work...donuts...next to me...Eli...aliens...uniform...right next to me...YOU'RE THE NEWBIE HERE?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha responded to Anne’s babbling by covering her red face with her hands and wishing she were literally anywhere else.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I would've had this chapter up yesterday, but I got caught up with studying for an exam and, more importantly, finishing Kipo S3. Anyone here watch that? It was great.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">A melodic alarm nudged Anne out of the arms of sleep.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Slowly she rose, stretching and popping her joints. She opened her eyes, gently wiped some dust that had gathered on her long lashes, and smiled. She felt good this morning, full of the life and vigor needed to tackle the world. She didn’t even mind waking up this early to work the first shift at her job. If anything, she relished the opportunity to drive to work with the window down and let the gentle rays of the morning sun kiss her skin.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But first things first…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She grabbed her folded towel from the closet and slung it over her shoulder. She stepped out of her room and went right into the next one. Not the bathroom, but Marcy’s room. She entered the eerie den of the coder, the dark habitation where the blinds were folded and the only light came from her multi-faced hydra of a computer set-up. Some of its glow illuminated Marcy’s face as she snored softly into her pillow.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy was usually so energetic and listless, it was nice to see her peaceful like this. Anne thought she looked adorable.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Which was why it pained her so much to have to disturb her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, wake up,” said Anne. She grabbed her roommate’s shoulder and shook it and repeated her demand, which was met by Marcy slapping her hand away and muttering incomprehensibly. Anne was tempted to just leave her like this, but she knew the mouthful she would get later if she did, so—with more than a slight grin—she let her hand trail down Marcy’s body until she reached her long legs...at which point she swiftly tugged it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“GAAH!” Marcy shot up like their monthly Internet fees every time she started a new game and needed to do research (AKA playing other games). She looked around in the darkness with frenzy, until Anne went and flicked the light switch. When her sore eyes adjusted, she looked at Anne and hissed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What was that for? I had a good dream going! I dreamt I was a princess in Ancient Egypt, but then suddenly I was sent into the future, and it was all high-tech and I was hanging out with talking cats and fish girls—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sorry, Marcy, but you told me to do this. Remember?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy wasn’t as much of a morning person as Anne, so it took her a moment before it came back to her. “Oh, right,” she said. “The comic store.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne nodded. “I’m going to be working pretty much the whole day, so this is the only time I can drive you there. So come on, up and attem, Mar Mar. I expect you to be ready by the time I’m done getting changed.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She winced at how much she was starting to sound like her mother, but such was the passage of time, turning children into what they always promised to not become.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Still, Marcy took her instruction better than young Anne would have. “Don’t worry, I’ll be ready,” she said as she scooped up a hoodie from off the ground. “Actually, I think I might have time to make us breakfast. Do we still have any pancake batter?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne shrugged, not knowing, and Marcy waved it off. “It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll check. I’ll have them done by the time you get out of the bathroom.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne’s eyes twinkled as she watched Marcy race off. She was grateful for having such an amazing friend.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">By the time she reached the breakfast table, she felt refreshed from her shower and born anew in her crisp, clean uniform. She and Marcy ate their fluffy pancakes and savored the sweetness of the syrup that dripped from every forkful, chatting lightly as they ate. Once they were done, Anne washed everything down with a tall glass of cold milk and stood up. “Time to go,” she said.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She and Marcy got in the car, and as she buckled her seat belt, she gave the world a beautiful smile.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Today’s going to be a good day. </em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A shrill alarm tore Sasha from the arms of sleep.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her eyes were still closed as she leaned on her side and sloppily started slapping at the table by her bed. When her palm made contact with the shrieking phone, she forced one eye open and slid her thumb across the screen to shut the horrible machine up. It did, and Sasha was tempted to throw it at the wall.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Instead she lay back in bed, almost slipping back to sleep, before she forced herself to keep her eyes open. She decided on a classic trick to get her out of bed: counting down.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Five...four...three...two...ONE!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She lurched from her resting position, and she nearly lost her balance. Her heart started beating painfully, her head throbbed, and little lights danced in front of her eyes.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I need to start sleeping earlier,” she groaned as messy threads of long blonde hair slipped over her face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No time to worry about that, though; she was working the first shift at her new job, and she already knew what could expect there. She was a donut jockey and it was the early morning, she could expect a lot of traffic. And since this was still her first week on the job, she needed to give the best impression she could. Her manager needed to see her at her best, her coworkers needed to see her at her best, her customers needed to see her at her best...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">...Anne needed to see her at her best.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shook her head. <em>Don’t think about that right now, </em>she ordered herself. Even in her own mind, her voice sounded slightly shaky.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She went into the bathroom and took her usual quick and miserable shower. She longed for the day when she could finally see steam coming out of her shower head. That would be the universe’s way of telling her that she made it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Until then, let the tepidness flow.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She threw on her uniform, hating how it felt on her body. Not just because she had improperly cleaned it and now it felt slightly crusty, but she realized just how much she missed the feeling of smooth cashmere on her skin, or how snazzy and professional she felt in a nice suit.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">First world problems, she knew (probably not even that, considering how the first world was faring now, thanks austerity) but it was the little annoyances that added up to an unsatisfying life. Death by a thousand paper cuts.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Really, at this point, the only thing that made her actually want to go to work was the potential of seeing Anne, and even that little hopeful glimmer was something she had to deny herself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Just stop thinking about it, </em>she told herself again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She ate a small breakfast of stale biscuits. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now. And it wouldn’t be all; Sasha allowed herself a smile, thinking about how at the end of the day, all donuts needed to be thrown out, as was store policy according to orientation. Employees were discouraged from taking some home, but Sasha figured she could sneak some in a bag and have them for dinner. Better in her fridge than in the trash, as far as she was concerned. It was such a waste to throw them out anyway; so many people were hungry out there, and all this food was being thrown away. Not only was it a waste, it was practically accessory to urban starvation.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Maybe this is part of my grand character arc, </em>Sasha thought as she tied her shoelaces. <em>Maybe this is supposed to show me what it’s like on the bottom, so I’m more thoughtful and helpful when I get to the top. Like a Scrooge-thing, but with cheap pastries instead of ghosts.</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She didn’t have any more time to dwell on that. She needed to grab a cab now, or she’d be late.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Luckily, she did manage to get one. Unluckily, the interior reeked of the noxious cigarette smoke.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha tried to open the window, but the driver told her it was broken, and as he began driving, Sasha groaned.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Today’s going to be a difficult day.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The two vehicles arrived at the same time, though neither noticed the other. Anne’s car pulled into an employee parking space in the nearby lot while Sasha’s taxi stopped on the curb and only moved again after she had paid her toll. The cabbie heaved a disappointed sigh when he saw that Sasha had left him no tip, and it made Sasha feel guilty.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Sorry, but I’m not in a place to give tips anymore, </em>she thought as she watched the yellow car drive away.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She turned around to begin walking towards her new workplace but quickly found herself freezing up. She noticed Anne in the parking lot, and for just a moment she considered diving into the bushes before she was spotted.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Too late; Anne turned, caught sight of her, and flashed her that irresistible smile that made Sasha squirm. She looked so happy to see her, and Sasha could only wonder why.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey Sasha,” called Anne, waving. She jogged over to her friend, who stood in place as stiff as an ice sculpture. “I didn’t know you were working morning shift too.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, heh heh...I didn’t know you were working in the morning either,” said Sasha with just a tinge of awkwardness. Unless it was just in her head, and Anne didn’t notice.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Thankfully, Anne’s mind seemed to be in other places. “Aw man,” she said, lightly smacking her forehead, “if I had known we were working the same time I could’ve offered you a lift! Unless, did you drive here yourself?"</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shook her head. "I took a taxi."</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">"Yeah, riding with me has gotta be better than taking a taxi.” Then Anne's eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, why did you take a taxi? Doesn’t your family have, like, four cars?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That’s...true,” said Sasha uneasily. “But two of them are being used by my parents right now...and because they both have business on opposite sides of town they couldn't drop me off here. And the other two, um...they were blown up.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne was caught so off-guard she looked like she had been slapped in the face. “What? How? Did anyone get hurt?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“D-don’t worry, this was a while ago. No one was hurt, thankfully. I’d love to stay out here and tell you about all the details that I’m privy to, b-but gosh, look at the time, we should really be going inside like exactly right now.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Smooth</em>, said Sasha’s judgmental self.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, you’re right,” said Anne. “Work starts in about fifteen minutes. But don’t think we’re done talking about this carpooling idea yet. We should compare schedules so I know when I can drive both of us.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, thanks Anne, but that’s really not necessary.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ah, come on, Sasha. It’ll save us money, it’s good for the environment, and honestly it sounds like it’ll be a nice time. We can talk and listen to music and maybe Marcy can join us...it’ll be fun!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">That did sound fun, and Anne’s offer was tantalizing enough to erode Sasha’s outright rejection.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’ll...think about it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne replied to that with a smile that turned her stomach to jelly and her nethers into a furnace.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Donuts are not an especially good breakfast food. The composition of an average donut is an unhealthy amount of sugar and carbohydrates, which—in addition to being bad for the body—only provided a brief spike in energy for the work/school day that burned out rather quickly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But donuts are cheap and accessible, so combined with decades-long advertising campaigns, it was no wonder that Sasha’s morning shift was a busy one. First came the people with jobs looking to grab something quick to take with them to work, and after them came the students from a nearby community college, looking for a snack either before or after class.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As she served them, Sasha wondered how many of them would end up like her, educated but with no place to apply it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Thankfully, the lines in front of Sasha’s counter became thinner and shorter as the afternoon rolled in. But as the demand for donuts died down, increased calls for ice cream took their place, and suddenly it was Anne’s place that was busy scooping and shoveling frozen lactate into cups, cones, and ultimately people’s mouths.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha was on break now, while her coworker Eric manned the fort. She did feel a bit envious of him, seeing how little work he was actually doing during these slow hours, but she comforted herself knowing that in the end, she got more tips than him—tips that allowed her to go to the small Subway at the end of the aisle and buy herself a nice lunch.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">While unwrapping her sub, her eyes wandered over to Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She watched as Anne busily took orders and served her customers, and she looked so graceful in her laboring. Her kind smile never slid from her face, her eyes never lost their bewitching twinkle. Even from a vast distance, Sasha felt magnetically pulled towards her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>What would happen</em>, she wondered, <em>if I went over there and made an order right now?</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She didn’t even want the ice cream, she just wanted Anne to look at her like that, and to serve her needs. Not “serving her needs” in the way her domineering, megalomaniac younger self would’ve wanted, but in a more intimate way. One where Anne satisfied the needs no one else could satisfy within her, and where she could, hopefully, do the same for Anne. Staring at Anne now, her self-denial never felt more painful.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She shivered with overwhelming lust.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But she would bare with it. She would be as a chivalric knight, gazing at the beautiful beloved lady from afar, never to touch them or know them. This was her fate. This was the fate her parents had preordained for her when they filled her head with self-hatred and self-disgust, filling her with loathing for her own impulses, her own desires, her own love.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>You know that’s not the whole story, </em>an inner voice came again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Go away,” she said to herself, lightly smacking the side of her head. She then turned her sights back to Anne, only to meet the eyes of one of Anne’s coworkers, who stared at her with a look of obvious puzzlement.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">In a millisecond, Sasha’s head turned again, now staring at the small TV that hung from the pillar in the middle of the mess hall. She stared at the screen, not absorbing what was on it, and trying to fight back the red tide washing over her face.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The coworker, one Luna Singer, then turned to Anne at her side. “You know, that girl over there is looking at you funny,” she told her, gesturing over her shoulder.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne looked where Luna was indicated, and she nodded knowingly. “Oh, don’t worry about that. That’s just Sasha.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wait...Sasha? <em>The </em>Sasha you’re always talking about?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well, I wouldn’t say always...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Huh. She looks a lot different than I imagined.” Luna cocked her head for a second look. “I thought her hair would be darker than that. Dirty blonde, you know? I also thought her clothes would be way different than that. Didn’t you say she was rich? Why does she have a Slammin’ Donuts uniform on?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I...actually don’t know,” admitted Anne. Her eyebrows came together in a worried expression. The excitement she had felt yesterday upon seeing that she would be working alongside Sasha had distracted from the obvious question of <em>why </em>Sasha was coming to work here. Unlike her, she had already graduated, and unlike her, she had a family wealthy enough to incubate her while she wasn’t working. It made no sense for Sasha—classy, bossy, prideful Sasha—to demean herself with a job serving food to hungry teenagers.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne’s heart skipped a beat when she came to a terrifying hypothesis.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Did something happen between her and her parents? </em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">That would explain a lot: her exploding cars story from earlier made a lot more sense as a cover-up. And Anne always knew there was friction between Sasha and her family so...had the tension finally blown up into something horrible? Conflict, abandonment, disownment? Had all this happened and Anne was just too thick-headed to notice her friend’s silent suffering?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Wait, no, I drove her to her house the other day. She wouldn’t have had me drive her there if something like that went down.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne rubbed her chin in troubled thought. She was confused now. Maybe she was just imaging things? Maybe she was just being over-dramatic? Sasha seemed more uncomfortable now than before, sure, but that happens when you return home and see your friends for the first time in years...right? But if Sasha was actually in trouble, wouldn’t it be up to her, as her friend, to ask and force the truth out of her so she could figure out how to help?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>I’ll ask her, </em>she decided. She looked over at Sasha again, and the way Sasha tried to inconspicuously eat her sandwich and pretend to be invested in the news report about Suriname’s new regulatory traffic laws only firmed her resolve. She was hiding something, and Anne would get to the bottom of it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>I’ll ask her. I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise you, Sasha.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Suddenly, her phone began to shake in her pocket. She reached down and pulled it out. “Oh, my break starts now,” she said. Then she smiled. “Perfect, now’s the right time to go and talk to Sasha.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Okay, have fun,” said Luna.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Oh, Luna, you sure you can handle the customers by yourself?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Luna waved her hand dismissively. “Before you started working here, I would take on rush hour hordes during the summer. I’ll be fine, you go hang with your friend.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne chuckled. “Thanks dude,” she said as she took her store-mandated white hat off.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Back at the corner of the dining hall, Sasha had actually become engrossed with the television screen. At first it was just an excuse to avoid eye contact, but now she was engaging with the CNN anchorwoman discussing the ongoing conflict between the Neo-Soviet Union and the Neo-Ottoman Empire (this is how you know it’s the future, old countries are resurrected with “Neo” slapped on). She didn’t even notice Anne until she suddenly fell into the chair in front of her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hey Sasha!” she exclaimed, surprising Sasha so much she almost fell out of her chair.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne!” cried a flustered Sasha. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne looked confused. “But I didn’t sneak up on you. I just walked over. Did...did you not see me?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I-I was busy watching the news. Like an adult would,” said Sasha, gesturing to the screen now showing a Russian soldier firing lasers at a robot attack dog. Very adult.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Riiiiiiight.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anyway, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“My break started 'bout a minute ago,” said Anne. “And since I saw you sitting over here, I thought we could...you know, have lunch together and talk about stuff.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Have lunch together? And talk about stuff?” repeated Sasha, her face slightly pinkening.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. I, uh, actually had something I wanted to ask you about, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha, uneasily, said, “Go on.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Well—and I hope this isn’t personal or anything—but I was just wondering why you took a job here.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What do you mean?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Come on, Sasha, I know you too well to think you’d actually enjoy working at a place like this if you could avoid it,” said Anne, “and your parents could pay for your expenses while you move on to whatever you’re planning to move on to. So I was just wondering...d-did something happen between you and th—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The loud slamming of Sasha’s palms against the table cut her off. In an instant, Sasha had shot up from her seat and was staring off into the distance like a shell shocked veteran. She blinked, shook her head, and looked down like she was surprised at how her body had reacted.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Uh...uh...that’s actually a good question, Anne,” said Sasha, ending on an uneven giggle. “But look, my break’s up, I need to get back to work, like, right now, so I guess we’ll have to talk later. Bye, ciao, aloha, we’ll talk later.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But Sasha, you haven’t even finished your sandwich.” Anne pointed at her half-eaten lunch, but Sasha didn’t stop walking away.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That’s okay, I don’t even like...sandwiches.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne opened her mouth to object...but promptly closed it. With obvious pain in her eyes, she turned away from Sasha and looked down at the table, her head hanging forlornly. She grit her teeth and balled her fists, angry at herself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Good job, Anne,” she growled. “What the hell was that? You just sit down and spring personal questions like that on her like it’s an interrogation? No wonder she didn’t want to talk. Stupid Anne, you’re so stupid!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Good job, Sasha,” Sasha growled at herself as she hid in the backroom of the Slammin’ Donuts. “What the hell was that? You just stand up and slam your hands into the table like a child the moment Anne says something to you? No wonder she thinks there’s something suspicious about you. Stupid Sasha, you’re so stupid!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Both women sighed, frustrated with themselves and their inability to communicate. Anne buried her disappointment in her lunch, and Sasha in her hands as she covered her face and tried not to punch herself.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Late afternoon came. The orange light of the sun shot through the windows, bringing gentle warmth in the place of scorching heat. The world was quiet, with few customers around and fewer ordering. There was ambiance, one in which people could reflect on everything they did that day.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha did, and she had little to be proud of.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Throughout the afternoon, Anne and Sasha had worked their respective counters, but neither had the courage to say anything to the other. Neither had the courage to even look at the other, even Sasha who delighted in taking quick glimpses of her Aphrodithai. What happened during their break hung over them like black clouds that exuded a thick and soupy humidity that made it hard for either of them to breathe.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>I need to say something to her, </em>decided Sasha, <em>before we have to go home.</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She had less than half-an-hour left of her shift, so it was now or never. She needed to think of something good to say to her, and quick. But what? What could she say?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“If I do say something to her, she might ask about my parents again,” murmured the troubled young woman. Her fingers rapped against the surface of her counter. “I can’t tell her...I don’t want to tell her. Not yet. But still...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her head lowered, and her eyes were covered by a shadow. She was in deep in thought when she heard the first yell.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, no, NO! I demand you serve me RIGHT NOW!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"><em>Oh good, a public meltdown, just what I needed right now. </em>Sasha rolled her eyes. She peeked out from her counter to see which poor employee was being harassed...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her blood instantly boiled when she saw it was Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">An older man was standing in front of the counter, his face red and twisted in anger. Behind the register was Anne, forcing a polite smile and weakly holding her ground.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’m sorry, sir”—she spoke clearly but with a tinge of alarm—“but we’re closing now. If you want, you can get ice cream from—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’m going to get it from YOU! I waited all FUCKING day to get my shit from here, so FUCK YOU for telling me I can’t!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Sir, please—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“<em>Sir, prease, me very sorry,</em>” mocked the man in an offensive accent. “I don’t fucking care what you have to say, do you understand? I want my order now, you stupid b—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So this is what happens when Mommy doesn’t say no to her brat screaming for candy in the store: they end up throwing hissy fits in front of an ice cream place.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man instantly fell silent, as did everyone else. His eyes widened with fury as he turned to his side, but the fury in his eyes was a matchstick compared to raging inferno in Sasha’s, which could only be contrasted with the coldly wicked smirk she wore on her lips.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne recognized where this was going. “Sasha, please don’t, I can handle—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha put up her hand, quieting her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Sorry Anne, but this troglodyte’s crossed the line.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“How DARE you speak to me like that?!” shouted the man at his new target. “I’ll have you know that—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yeah, yeah, let me guess, you were some real important big shot back in your twenties or thirties when papyrus scrolls were the most advanced form of media.” Sasha faked a yawn. “Spare me, I’ve heard the stories a thousand times over. If I had a dollar for every time, I might have as much money in my pocket as you have wrinkles on your face.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It brought her pleasure to see offense written plainly on the man’s face, and it made her hungry to inflict more. It would be a lesson to him, a lesson to all those like him: every beautiful flower had a fierce bee nearby, so try to hurt the flower, and you’ll get stung.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">In a way, it brought back memories of the old days, back when she protected Anne from girls like Maggie. Right now, she didn’t feel like Sasha Waybright, 24 year old walking failure. No no no, now she felt like Sasha Waybright, 13 year old queen bee supreme.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Of course, being 24 had its benefits. All those years between then and now gave her much in the way of combat, both from military training in Amphibia and martial arts practice here on Earth.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">So when the man, whose brain must have melted from anger, decided to foolishly take a swing at her, Sasha was able to grab his arm and twist it.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Unfortunately, she took it too far, if that distinct popping sound, followed by pained howling, was any indication.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re lucky he’s not pressing charges.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha was no stranger to the stern, authoritarian voice that her boss spoke to her with. She knew there was anger in it, but it was a subtle anger, swimming under the thin ice of his cold tone. It was also waiting for her to give him a reason to yell, to allow it to burst out from under the ice and get her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had heard this tone from her father many times before, and it was giving her deja vu to hear another patriarchal authority speaking that way to her now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, having been spoken to so many times like this before, she knew the course. Keep your head low, speak only when explicitly invited to, and make sure to look sorry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Especially</em> if you weren’t actually sorry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course she felt bad for dislocating the older man’s arm, and she cringed when she recalled his screams, but was she sorry for standing up for Anne? No, not at all. Where there should have been guilt, there was only roaring pride.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, not only roaring pride. There was also deep, deep fear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you still listening to me?” her boss said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha looked up from the ground. Her boss’ office was littered with books and papers, mostly relegated to his shiny desk and coppery bookshelf. Behind him were three diplomas stamped to the wall. Sasha didn’t think you needed three diplomas to manage a few branches of a donut franchise, but hey, what did she know? She was a business graduate vending donuts for a living, after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A living she knew she had to keep. At all costs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes sir,” she said meekly. Internally, she gagged at the mildness of the tone she was forced to speak in was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good.” The man in front of her picked up a loose paper and examined it, nodding as he set it back down. “He does, however, insist we pay for damages and medical costs. Which we will do, of course. And do you know where we’ll get that money from?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Our multi-millionaire CEO who has more money than he’ll ever know how to spend?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My paycheck?” said Sasha instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He nodded. “Your paycheck. Or, more precisely, the money that would’ve been your paycheck, but not anymore. You’re fired.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her eyes widened as he slammed his hand on the desk, like a judge pounding his gavel. “NO!” she shouted. “Y-you can’t fire me, I was—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Getting involved with something that wasn’t your business,” he said coolly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That girl he was yelling at is a friend of mine! You can’t expect me to just sit back and do nothing!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is exactly what we expect you to do. In fact, that’s what we expect you to do if <em>you’re</em> the one being screamed at.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“B-but...he was also being racist to her, and...and...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you decided to destroy his arm.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha fell silent again. She knew she was at an impasse; nothing she could say now would move or sway him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He handed her a pink slip, and she walked out of his office.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>As she emerged from the building, Sasha felt like a zombie. She dragged one foot in front of the other in a slow, repetitive process. It frustrated her, and the very idea of walking, of getting from place to place by stomping on the ground, seemed so absurd and ridiculous to her at that moment that she nearly burst into wild laughter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she knew what her problem was, and it wasn’t the way she walked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In front of her was a car, and standing in front of that car was Anne. Sadness and guilt were written plainly on her face, and when she spotted the crumpled pink slip in Sasha’s fist, they only intensified. She opened her mouth to say something, but Sasha raised a finger, a gesture to stop whatever she was about to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’re about to tell me you’re sorry, don’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How did y—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because I know everything,” said Sasha with a sad yet playful smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne chuckled weakly, then resumed her frowning. “But seriously, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten in trouble.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anne, please shut up,” said Sasha with a sort of exasperation. “He was the one who started yelling at you for no reason, and I’m the one who took it too far and pulled his arm out of his socket. What exactly did you do to make you guilty?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne stopped as she felt Sasha’s cup her hands around her cheeks. She forced her to look at her, to peer into her eyes. Anne had grown slightly taller than Sasha in the years since they separated, and she found herself looking down at a pair of eyes that expressed determination as much as they expressed sadness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m already sad enough as it is,” said Sasha with a weary smile. “You don’t have to be sad with me or for me. I’d rather have a friend who could cheer me up about now instead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The corners of Anne’s mouth flickered, then rose slightly in the form of a small smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, okay.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha smiled back. Then she realized what she was doing, holding Anne’s face as she was, and quickly pulled her hands away. Her face turned red, and her eyes turned to the ground.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, can I at least offer you a ride home?” asked Anne. She patted the top of her car like a pet. “It’s the least I can do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To her surprise, Sasha didn’t immediately accept or decline, as she noticed she was prone to do these days. Instead, a look of deep thoughtfulness passed over her face. She bit down on her lip and started tapping her foot, as if she were contemplating something important. Anne could only watch and wait.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, her blonde friend sighed and gave a hurried nod. “Sure. But...can you do me a favor?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha pointed to her left, down the street of the west that ran all the way towards the horizon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Drive that way,” she instructed her, “and stop when I tell you to stop.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But Sasha...isn’t your home the other way?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha looked back to her, her long hair spilling over one eye. In the other eye swam exhaustion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, I’m sorry,” apologized Anne. “Let’s go that way then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They got in the car together, and they drove in silence. Sasha said nothing to Anne, and Anne said nothing to Sasha. Anne did, however, note that Sasha was still holding onto her pink slip in a fist so tightly that she could only wonder if Sasha’s nail could draw blood from her palm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she didn’t say anything about that. She simply drove on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, as they were about to pass a not-especially-noticeable motel, Sasha broke the silence. “Stop here,” she said, and Anne did. She pulled into the parking lot and shot Sasha a quizzical look.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, Sasha, what are we doing here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha didn’t answer. She unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the vehicle, Anne soon doing the same.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha began walking up a series of steps, and Anne followed her. They walked through a thin column of small homes, some with windows, some without, and with every step she took, Anne felt more uncomfortable and unnerved. This place gave her bad vibes. There was loud yelling only slightly muffled by the concrete. A haze of smoke lingered, and the air stunk of tobacco and hashish. The walls were dirtied, with mud and crude drawings of genitalia staining the sallow color. And, perhaps worst of all, there was a man staring out his window, and his eyes were following them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne hated it here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, she kept it to herself as she followed Sasha to the last room. She watched as Sasha reached into her pocket and extracted a key. She was confused by it, and her confusion only escalated when Sasha inserted the key into its hole and opened the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Wait, why does Sasha have a key to one of these rooms?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then it clicked, and she gasped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sasha...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her friend turned to her, a small smile on her lips and a peach blush on her cheeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Welcome to my place, Anne.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>After a brief tour of her (very) humble abode, Sasha fell down on her bed, fatigued after everything that had happened yesterday, today, and her entire life up until now. She then straightened up and sat upright, her butt pressing into the edge of the mattress.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne, on the other hand, refused to take a seat. She stood, leaning, her shoulder pressed to the plaster. Her arms were crossed, like an upset parent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So the other day, when I drove you home...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha shook her head. “I don’t live there anymore. I live here. And I...I didn’t want you to find out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha almost answered, but thought better of it, and turned away while nibbling her lower lip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sensing that she wasn’t going to get an answer, Anne backed off the question...for now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I felt like something was going on,” she said. “Between you and your parents, I mean. Like, come on, did you really think that story about you needing to take a taxi because your cars exploded was that convincing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, it’s hot here in Cali, cars sometimes explode with the heat—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sasha,” interrupted Anne, “what happened between you and them? And this time I want an answer, no turning away and giving me the silent treatment.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha sighed. “I mean, what’s there to say? I never got along with them all that much. They spent more time with business partners than they did with me, and whatever time they spent with me was spent berating me, telling me to shape up, scolding me for this and that. Part of the reason I left for New Hampshire was so I could build myself there and come back here. I felt like...I don’t know, like I showed them. Like I wanted to prove myself to them, but not to make them proud. To...to spite them, I guess.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, that’s part of the reason you ran off? What’s the other part?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>You. How I feel about you. I thought I could get away from these feelings.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not important. What is important is that I failed. I didn’t come back as a success, I came back as a failure. I couldn’t face them like this, so...here I am.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She patted her small bed for emphasis.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne’s brown eyes shimmered with sympathy, which aroused conflicting feelings in Sasha.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Stop looking at me like that! Or...k-keep looking at me like that, you’re so cute when you’re sympathetic.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What did you just say?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha blinked. Did she say her thoughts out loud? Hopefully not. Quick, just repeat the last thing you know you said out loud!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Um...here I am?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne shook her head. “No, before that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That I wanted to come back as a success but came back as a failure?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, that. Sasha...you’re not a failure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With just four words, Anne cast a spell that struck Sasha’s heart. Her heart skipped a beat, excited and touched. Her brain, however, was slower on the uptake, leaving her to blink rapidly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” she croaked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her reaction made Anne chuckle. Shaking her head slightly, she sauntered closer to her friend. At first, Sasha was struck by a lustful, wildly imaginative kind of nervousness, watching the girl she loved come closer to her on her bed. She gripped her mattress tightly, anticipating what was to come.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne, however, didn’t join her on the bed (much to her relief...and immense disappointment). Instead, she bent down on one knee, so that she was at eye-level with Sasha on her low bed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not a failure,” she repeated. “Why would you ever think that about yourself?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because...didn’t you listen?! Every company I set up or tried to set up failed, most of my money was taken from me by a guy I dated, and I couldn’t even hold down a simple fast food job!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you have a degree. That’s worth something, and it’s more than a lot of people have in this world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A degree is useless in the hands of someone that can’t get it together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But it’s still something,” insisted Anne stubbornly. “Whatever you think of yourself now, there was a past version of you that got that degree by studying hard and understanding all these complicated concepts that confuse most people. And you said you had multiple businesses that failed, right? Most people have to give up after one or two, but you had the smarts and the stubbornness to keep on going, dude.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, I don’t know everything about you and your family,” said Anne, “and I’m sorry if I’m about to say something offensive, but...but I don’t think you’ll ever get your parents’ approval.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha sucked in a sharp intake of air; she felt like she had just been punched in the chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I don’t think you should chase after it either,” continued Anne. Her face was set and grit, she was determined to hammer her next point home. “You have so much going on for you, Sasha. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re dedicated, you’re a good leader, you’re pretty strong as we learned yesterday heh...but my point is that you’re actually really amazing, and if you stopped looking at yourself through your parents’ eyes, you’d see that too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was too much for Sasha. It was too much for her to have Anne, with a kindly dedication to her, with warmth in her smile as much as in her voice, tell her all this. That she was smart, that she was beautiful, that she dedicated, that she could achieve anything…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She didn’t deserve Anne. She really didn’t.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had spent so long chasing after the approval and envy of the memory of her parents. She had spent so many years away, trying to find something, trying to find it in the boys she dated and slept with. But it was only here, only now, that an inkling of what she wanted appeared to her as clear as day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>New York and New Hampshire didn’t matter. Dan and all the other boyfriends didn’t matter. Her parents...yes, even her parents didn’t matter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That bright thing she was looking for, she found it in Anne’s eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha wasn’t about to cry, but a lone tear leaked from her eye. She brushed it gracefully, and smiled at her friend—her best friend in the world.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Anne.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another word, and she might have choked up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne responded with another tender smile. She lifted herself up from the ground and let out a great heaving sigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad I could help out with that. Now let me help you just a little bit more.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne flashed her a puckish grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m helping you pack your bags, of course. Where’re your suitcases?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, what? What’s going on, Anne?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well you can’t stay with your parents, and you got fired so you can’t afford to stay here anymore...which is a shame, this place is so lovely,” said Anne as she watched a bug that science had yet to identify crawl up the wall. “So pack your bags, you’re moving right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sasha shot up from her seat. “But where will I go?” she asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>To that, Anne answered in the form of another sly grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When the doorbell rang, Marcy was playing Tetris. She was concentrated, eyes glued to the screen, as she mashed buttons so swiftly and strongly her fingers began to swell. She was inching closer and closer to her all-time high score, and every ounce of concentration that she could muster was poured into her game.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But then the doorbell rang, and for the briefest nanosecond, Marcy was distracted, giving the infamous square block a chance to clog up her only empty column.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dang it!” shouted Marcy as all her hopes and dreams died before her eyes. “There’s never a place for that stupid O-block!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The doorbell rang again, and Marcy immediately forgot about the game. “Coming!” she yelled as she burst out of her room and rushed to the front door. She opened it and found Anne as expected...along with Sasha, who was less-expected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Sasha,” she said with a friendly wave. “It’s good to s—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She paused when she noticed the suitcases at their feet. She blinked, stunned for a moment, but when she realized what was happening, her eyes widened like saucers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, Sasha, are you…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes I am, Marcy,” said Sasha.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Marcy looked to Anne, as if for final confirmation. When Anne nodded, Marcy let out a high squeal and threw her fists triumphantly in the air.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“YES! The OT3 is back together, baby!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anne rolled her eyes and Sasha looked confused by the “OT3” label, but they both accepted Marcy’s embrace as she brought them together for a big group hug.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally, I can write nice things happening to Sasha :weary:</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Sasha had just finished adding the final touches to her new room when she heard someone lightly tapping the open door behind her. “Knock knock,” came a playful voice. With warm cheeks and a light smile dancing on her lips, Sasha turned to the welcome sight of Anne in her doorway.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her friend.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her benefactor.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her savior.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She even had the aureate glow of a savior. Or maybe that was just the bright light behind her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne stepped into the room, whistling as she surveyed the den Sasha had made for herself. “You clean up nice, Waybright,” she said. And she was right; in the short timeframe of just two hours, Sasha made a room for herself that was nicer than either hers or Marcy’s.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Her room was fairly plain; a bed, a desk, a small closet, and only a few medals and tennis rackets to give it a sporty character.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy’s was in a state of permanent revolution; her wires and gadgets and stray things fought guerilla warfare against the order she occasionally tried to impose on them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">But Sasha’s new room was tasteful, walking the fine line between cozy and elegant. Her makeshift cot of a bed was wrapped in soft, pink fabric. A perfectly round mirror, coated in pearly frame, sat atop a little table in the perfect symmetrical middle, surrounded by little kitsches and charms. On the wall were pictures so neatly nailed that they seemed more natural to the wall than the blue paint behind them. And when Anne sniffed, she smelled a sweet, floral scent lingering in the air.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">At first, Anne thought that Sasha had the advantage with such a small room, being able to fashion it up in a more timely matter. But now she wondered if Sasha’s interiorscaping talents were being restricted by the limited space...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">No matter; Sasha seemed thankful about it, if her light blush and lighter smile were anything to go by. And that smile made Anne smile; it was good to see her bounce back from the sad dejection of earlier.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thanks Anne,” said Sasha curtly. “I don’t think it’s all that good, though. It’s nothing like my room as a kid.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But it’s gotta be better than a motel room, right?” chuckled Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha smirked, then nodded. “Yeah, it is.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So on a scale of your childhood room to cheap motel, we’re somewhere in the middle. That’s good,” said Anne with a laugh. Then she dialed back the humor, and revealed a worried thoughtfulness. “Sasha, do you—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I don’t miss it there,” said Sasha. She knew what Anne was going to ask, and she didn’t miss a beat. She turned to her friend, her bangs flipping as she looked over her shoulder. Her mouth curved into a bittersweet smile. “The room may have been nice, but the atmosphere was...to call it oppressive would be underselling.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I know, and I’m sorry. But it’s better here now...right?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne little note of unsureness made Sasha’s heart melt. A malicious little part of her piped up, whispering to her exactly how she could take advantage of that and use it to wrap Anne around her finger just like before, but Sasha promptly silenced it. She wasn’t that girl anymore, and if the other day was proof of anything, she should never try to be that girl again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She had changed. Anne had changed. The world(s) had changed. And that was okay. It didn’t have to be good or bad—it just had to be.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">So rather than respond in the voice of the commanding legion, Sasha responded in the voice of kindness and gratitude.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I have a feeling staying with you two is going to be the best.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne didn't notice she was holding her breath until she sighed in relief.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“So cheer up, girl!” exclaimed Sasha loudly, throwing her arm around Anne’s shoulder. “We should totally do something to celebrate this homecoming. We should get pizzas, on me!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Pizzas?” Marcy’s head jutted through the doorway. “Did somebody say pizza party?!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Definitely not a party!” shouted Anne, pointing a crooked finger at Marcy. “After what happened last time, your friends are permabanned from the premises.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Booooooo. You’re no fun, Anne.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And you really don’t have to do that, Sasha,” said Anne, turning back to their new housemate. “Save your money, I could get pizza for us if you two really want some.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne, you’re letting me stay in your home, let me do this for you.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Technically, it’s my home,” piped Marcy. “And I could always pay for the pizzas myself...I’d just open commissions and use that. Twenty dollars for pixel art, fifty for full color and shading, and seventy for NS—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” said Anne warningly. “Plus, those prices are pretty expensive, right?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy shrugged. “I’m a cute girl. People in some of my fandom circles would pay just to talk to me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha sighed. It was moments like this that reminded her why she, despite her resolutions, had to take charge sometimes. Things wouldn’t get done right if left up to Anne and Marcy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Alright, compromise time.” Sasha clapped her hands together, silencing her friends. “We’ll split the bill evenly—one third, one third, one third, and whoever can afford to be nice enough to tip can cough up the dough for that. Good so far?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Both Anne and Marcy nodded.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Good. Now, are we ordering or going out tonight?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne rubbed her chin. “It has been a while since we’ve gone out to eat...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And me leaving the house would be a good chance to give my computer some rest. It’s been on for three weeks straight,” muttered Marcy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Then it’s settled. Now, final question: where are we going?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Domino’s?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Blegh, no way, dude. Let’s go with Pizza Hut.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“How about we go somewhere more...local? It’s been a while since I’ve eaten pizza that wasn’t franchised.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ooh! There’s this German-Japanese-Italian fusion place that opened recently. I’ve heard their wiener-wasabi pizza is to die for!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">"<em>German-Japanese-Italian?</em>” repeated Anne. “Yikes.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne, in some parts of Amphibia we’re technically war criminals. We’re not in the place to point fingers.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy’s right. I say we go. All in favor?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Aye!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne shrugged. “Aye.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And an aye from me seals the deal,” said Sasha with a confident smirk. “Let’s get our grub on, ladies.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy threw her fists up victoriously, and began running to the car (slamming in two walls on the way). Anne followed after her, her fingers twitching as she mentally calculated the potential costs. And Sasha...she didn’t follow them just yet. She stood in her place, enjoying the warm feeling of familiarity, of feeling the rhythm of their little group being re-established.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Maybe the voice of the commanding legion could be used for good after all…</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">More than thirty minutes later, the three reached Papal Daimyo’s Volksfest. Despite the grand name, the building itself was squat and somewhat dumpy. Through the tinted glass windows—the parts that weren’t covered with yellow fliers, at least—the inside of the restaurant could be seen, and all that could be seen were a few chairs and tables, one lonely arcade machine, and one cash register standing between the public and the kitchen staff. Really, the entire place seemed unimpressive...except for the smell. There was a warm, garlicky, meaty aroma that beckoned to the girls like a ghostly hand of pie steam in a cartoon.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Despite her trained elegance, Sasha couldn’t stop her mouth from watering a little. Up in the front, Marcy was <em>drooling</em>.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Last one out is a rotten egg!” she cried as she tried jumping out of the car...only to fall flatly on her face in the parking lot.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha sighed. “Should we get you an ice pack with our food?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, no, I’m fine.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The girls entered the restaurant and took their seats at the only table next to the windows. Thankfully, the tables were clean. Not exactly sparkling, but there were no crumbs for Sasha to brush off with a disgusted scowl like she sometimes had to at small restaurants like these.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">A man walked over to them. Despite the nature of the restaurant, he was not German or Italian or Japanese. “Velcome to Volksfest,” he said in a thick accent that Sasha pegged as potentially-Bulgarian. “My name is Boris. Order please?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hi Boris,” said Sasha. “We’ll have two large...um, what was that thing you said earlier, Marcy?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Two large wiener-wasabi pizzas, please.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Their waiter nodded as he wrote it down on his notepad. “Drink?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Mountain Dew for me,” said Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’ll take a Coke,” said Marcy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha had been craving a Coke too, but then something on the menu caught her eye.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You guys have wine?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Both Anne and Marcy looked at her, surprised. Even Boris cocked an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything about it other than, “Yah, red wine.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I’ll have that, then.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Boris nodded, and turned to the kitchen. “Rashid! Rashid, two wiener-wasabi pizza!”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Two pizzas, coming up!” came a disembodied voice from the kitchen.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Boris turned back, and bowed slightly. “Food vill be ready soon,” he said politely.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Thank you,” said Sasha as he began walking away. She lowered her head to see her two companions looking at her oddly. “What?” she asked.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Wine? Really?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Yes, Anne, really,” she said with a hint of a scoff. “I’m an adult of refined taste, I’m not going to keep drinking soda forever like a teenager.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I resent that,” said Marcy. “Soda is awesome! It makes me feel all energetic and buzzed up and ready to hyperfocus on my coding for the day.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Neither Anne nor Sasha were impolite enough to tell Marcy she was always energetic and buzzed up. They did both think it, though.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I mean, I guess there’s nothing wrong with it,” said Anne, “but it just feels weird with pizza, you know?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Relax, you two are overthinking it. Now’s as good a time as any. Let me just celebrate a little.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Celebrate what? Getting fired?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha shot Marcy a dirty look, and she grinned sheepishly. “Whoops, heh heh...oh look, an arcade game, I need to play that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Pretty sure it’s busted,” speculated Anne.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Ooh, fixing a busted down arcade game.” Marcy’s eyes shone with delight at the prospect of a challenge. “Even better.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Marcy, Marcy, Marcy, I don’t think they’ll let you—”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Aaaaaaaaand she’s stopped listening to you,” said Sasha.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“And she’s gone now,” said Anne, watching as her tech savvy friend crouched down in front of the machine and pulled out a screwdriver. The man behind the counter noticed, but he seemed too exhausted to muster the will to stop her, so he did the easy thing and looked away and whistled innocently for the security camera watching them.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“But seriously, Anne,” said Sasha, turning Anne’s focus back to her, “are you seriously telling me that you’ve never had alcohol this whole time?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne shook her head, and when she noticed Sasha’s surprise, she blushed lightly. “I-it’s just not something I’m curious about. I heard it mostly tastes bad, wrecks your body in so many horrible ways, and even being drunk isn’t worth it once the hangover kicks in.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha waved her hand dismissively. “Pssh. Come on, Anne, it’s not <em>that </em>bad. Here, I’m going to drink now, and you’re going to see how well I can handle it.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“You sure?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha grinned cockily, arrogantly. “I’m sure.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">About an hour later, as they were driving home, Sasha was laid out in the back of the car, her face pale and sweating. Her hands held her stomach as she twitched repeatedly. She groaned, and Anne checked on her through the rear-view mirror. “Sasha, are you okay?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The girl in the back raised an unconvincing thumbs-up that shook like she was in an earthquake. “<em>Never better,</em>” she said in a thick slur. She hiccuped, then giggled. “That was good juice.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne looked over to Marcy, who shrugged. “I think that might’ve been <em>more </em>than just wine,” said Marcy.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No kidding,” said Anne, giving another nervous glance to Sasha.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Do you think she’ll puke?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I hope not.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I hope she does. Then I can use her puke to clone her.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Gross. Also just take a hair if you want to clone her.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy rolled her eyes. “Sure, if you want to take all the fun of mad scientisting. Maybe Frankenstein should’ve asked for donors instead of going grave-robbing.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Unironically yes.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The car rolled up in their driveway, and Anne and Marcy stepped out first. The latter opened the door for Sasha, and now it was her turn to spill onto the ground. Luckily, in her case, there was a soft grassy lawn to receive her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Right, come on, let’s get you up,” said Anne. She reached down to grab Sasha’s arm, who pulled it away giggling.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That tickles,” she snorted.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">With a sigh, Anne looked to Marcy. “This might be a while,” she told her, “but I think I can take care of this by myself. Here are the keys”—she passed the keychain to Marcy with a toss—“go open the door and fix up Sasha’s bed for her.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Marcy saluted and rushed off to follow commands, and Anne looked back down to Sasha, who was now playing with a blade of grass with the same engaged enjoyment of a little boy with his first action figures. Sighing, she rubbed her palms together determinedly.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Right, let’s do that again.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">This time she was about to pick her friend off the ground. She slung the drunk girl’s arm around her shoulder, and began the slow process of dragging her inside.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">As she did, she heard Sasha mumbling. First, she dismissed it as drunk nonsense, but then she heard Sasha say something that sounded a lot like her name.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What was that, Sash?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Just saying...y-you’re a good friend, Anna.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne. But...but thanks, that means a lot,” said Anne with a smile.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“No, no, no, you don’t u-understand.” Sasha blinked rapidly, like that would help her thought process. “You’re, like, a realllllly good friend. Best friend ever. You let me st-stay with you, and you got us all pizzas...you even stood up for me when that guy was screaming at me.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“That was you, Sasha,” Anne gently reminded her. “You stood up for me. And I’m really thankful about that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Was it? Huh...don’t remember it like that. But...but it’s probably true, I am awesome like that.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne chuckled. “Yeah, you are.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha giggled, but then shifted to a look of sadness. “Not always,” she said sloppily.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“What?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Not always awesome,” she repeated in a low murmur. “I can be...be a coward sometimes.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“How so?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha looked into Anne’s eyes; her expression oddly grim and melancholic in its seriousness. Red blotches appeared on her porcelain face, until the whole thing was consumed by a fiery blush.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Promise you won’t tell Anne, Anna.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne almost corrected her again, but her curiosity stopped her.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I...I promise I won’t tell Anne.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha nodded. “Okay. Then I’ll tell you,” she rasped. She leaned in close, then whispered into Anne's ear:</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“I...I love her.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne blinked. “L-love who, Sasha?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Anne. I’m in love with Anne. Can’t tell her though, because we’ve been apart for so long and we just became friends again...and I’m scared to tell her. But I love her. I love her so much it hurts sometimes.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne listened to Sasha’s drunken outpour of emotion with a look of confused awe. Her mouth gaped as Sasha talk about how much she loved her, and all the things that attracted her to her. Her beauty, her smarts, her kindness...Anne listened wordlessly as Sasha recounted it all, and when Sasha became exhausted from all the talking, all Anne could do was gulp quietly and say, “Let’s...let’s get you to bed, Sasha.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Sasha weakly nodded, and the two began their joint shuffle to her room.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Once Sasha was finally laid in her bed, her eyes closed and she instantly began snoring. Sweat poured from her body and neck to be absorbed by the sheets and pillow. Anne smiled weakly as she backed away slowly, but once she closed the door behind her, her smile fell and her arms crossed.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>What was that? What were all those things she was saying? That she l-loved me? Like...love love?</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">“Hmm...”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">She was drunk. She was drunk, sure. Maybe she was just speaking gibberish. Or maybe she was trying to express something else, and the wrong words came to the forefront of her mind. Or maybe...maybe...</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Maybe she actually is in love with you.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">All of a sudden, her chest felt constricted, and her stomach uneasy. If Sasha was in love with her...that might actually explain a lot. All those weird blushes and eyes darting away and reluctance to spend time with her...was that just Sasha dealing with being in love with her?</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Anne didn’t know what it all meant. And she especially didn’t know what it meant...to her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh no! But also...oh yes!</p>
<p>Next chapter should be the longest one yet, assuming I don't get frustrated and break it up as I usually do. We'll see how it goes. </p>
<p>Additionally, as a brief little side note, I am having fun writing Anne and Marcy as a comedic duo in and of themselves. I feel like it's fandom orthodoxy to have Anne and Marcy be a little stupid and Sasha as the more straight-laced one (if some of the fanart and memes I see are any indication), but being apart from the other two parts of the triumvirate would reduce her capacity to play that role. Though maybe...hmm...I need to play with that dynamic in a future story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">“<em>Ughhhhh...</em>”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">First thing Sasha noticed when she woke up was the pounding in her skull. Second thing she noticed was the pool of sweat she was sleeping in. Her sheets, blanket, and pillow were moist and sticky, and when she moved to lift her arm, she had to tug it away roughly from the bed it felt glued to.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She took that arm and wiped her sweaty forehead. Her face felt like a kettle on the fire.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Unable and unwilling to get out of bed, Sasha opted to lay there for a while. She reached to her side to grab her phone, but didn’t find it there. Instead, she found it in her pocket. She was mildly annoyed that she had slept with her phone on her person—what if she slept on her side and ended up crushing it?!—but decided to let it go. She tapped the screen, and it lit up in front of her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Five?” she muttered. “Five A.M.? Why did I wake up so earl—”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Her answer came in the form of a quaking stomach.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">All tiredness evaporated; she instantly jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, where she sat on the toilet, holding her stomach, rocking herself. The bathroom felt boiling, so much so that she shed every article of clothing she was wearing. She then returned to her porcelain seat, pleading with both God and her body to not make her throw up.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Thankfully, she didn’t, but she still didn’t feel better, as when she rose to stand on shaking legs, she felt awash by waves of queasiness.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know what might help?” she asked herself. She smiled weakly as she glanced at her side. “A nice, hot shower.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She didn’t bother putting her clothes back on; she instead quickly rushed back to her room to grab a towel and some fresh clothes and just as quickly ran back. Of course, no one saw her, and that left Sasha with a surprising feeling of disappointment. Maybe, just maybe, she had streaked in the hopes that Anne would see her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">No matter; it was time to enjoy something she had wanted since she returned to Cali.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She twisted the red-coded shower knob, and let out the longest sigh of her life as actual warm water finally fell on her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">After taking a longer shower than she intended, Sasha stepped out and began scrubbing herself with her towel. Once she was nice and dry, she put on her new clothes (a blue shirt with dress-like hems and long white pants), tied her hair into a ponytail, and went to face the mirror. She rubbed some of the fogginess off to get a good look at her face; it was less sweaty and colorful than earlier, so that was good.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Before she left the mirror, she found herself doodling on the steamy parts that she hadn’t wiped away earlier. A smiley face, a frowny face, a heart with S+A inscribed in it...</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha blushed when she realized she had drawn that, and quickly wiped it away with her fist.</p><p class="western"> </p>
<hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The final tool in battling an upset tummy was usually, at least in Sasha’s case, something sweet to eat. As such, she poured herself a bowl of sugary cereal, sat at the table, and broke her fast. It was still early, and as such everything was mercifully slow and quiet save for the soft crunching noises she made. This gave her time to think, and time to recall.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">When she first went into the bathroom, she thought she had been struck ill in her panic. But when she went back to her room for the towel and clothes, she caught a rancid whiff of what was unmistakably spirits. Wine. Alcohol.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That was when she remembered her little stunt of last night; drinking a lot more of the stuff than she should have.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She remembered Anne protesting when she ordered her first cup, and in hindsight she wished she listened to her. Truthfully, she didn’t even like alcohol. She agreed with Anne that it mostly tasted terrible and had horrible effects (like how she currently felt like invisible hands were trying to squeeze her brain out of her head) but if she remembered correctly, it wasn’t really about the wine and whatever it had been laced with: it was about...showing off, to an extent.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Look at me, I’m a mature adult, I drink liver poison instead of cola-flavored blood sugar poison!</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha grimaced. She always had this problem of needing to be affirmed in the eyes of the other; she wanted her parents to notice her when she was a child, she wanted her partners to view her as an equal back in her businesswoman days, and all throughout her life she <em>needed</em> her friends to see her as cool and subversive and always ready to lead them into new trends.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And wasn’t that what got them sent to Amphibia in the first place, all those years ago? Her pressuring Anne into steal a music box? Yeah, that kind of thing. Maybe it was some part of human nature to want to impress, but Sasha always took it too far.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She knew she didn’t have to. She knew how Anne and Marcy didn’t really care for all that, and they would like her even if she was the most boring basic bitch in the whole wide world. But there was a difference between knowing something and <em>knowing </em>something.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It’s like I fix a problem with myself, and then I need to fix it again five more times for it to stick.” Sasha clinked the spoon on the bowl with a sigh. “Maybe I just can’t become a better person.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Ah, don’t say that. You’re alright in my book, Sasha.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha gasped and jumped; her head whirled to where the voice came from. “Marcy!” she exclaimed, exhaling in relief. “When did you get here?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh Sasha...I’ve been standing here the whole time.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha’s eyes widened, and Marcy let out a little snort.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Nah, I’m kidding, I just got here right now. Got a long day of work ahead of me, so it’s important that I fuel up!"</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Okay,” said Sasha, watching Marcy march to the fridge. “What do you usually eat for breakfast?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Anything, really,” she answered as she opened up the freezer. She dug around for a moment, with little ice crystals falling out around her. With a forceful tug she pulled out a slightly-beaten box of waffles out from the back and grinned. “But today, I’m thinking waffles. About five of them, to be precise.” She dug her hand into the box, and her face fell as she pulled out an empty bag. “Oh...uh...I guess not. Who even put this box back if it’s empty? Oh right, I did.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I wanted to gauge how disappointed I would feel,” said Marcy as she pulled out a small notebook and made a note of her current state in it. “And now that my trap has finally been sprung on myself, I can say I’m at a six on my scale of disappointment.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Out of ten?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“<em>Out of five,</em>” growled Marcy, a deep frown etched into the wrinkles of her face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Then she put her notebook away and smiled again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So, are you feeling any better today?” she asked as she tossed the empty box and bag in the trash. “Because last night you were <em>really</em> fucked up.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” said Sasha, her cheeks flushing.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Do you really remember?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I remember not remembering anything.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Then allow me to jog your memory!” Marcy cleared her throat. “You were really, really, really, <em>really</em> wasted. Way more than you should be from wine, though given the nature of the restaurant we visited, I doubt it was just wine. Or if it was just wine, it wasn't the normal kind. But the point is, you couldn’t even stand up, so we had to help you out and get you into bed. Well, not really me, I just opened the doors. Anne was the one who did all that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Hearing this, Sasha choked on her food and spit out the milk and cereal all over the table. If her face was flushed before, it was all blush now. “Anne?! Anne carried me to bed?!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Marcy nodded, and Sasha let out a whimper. Vivid, fanciful imaginings began filling her mind; one had Anne carrying her bridal-style, holding her limp half-conscious self close to her bosom; another had Anne tucking her into bed with ginger touch of a mother, topping it off with a loving kiss. In her mind, these lurid scenes were all filtered through pink and had inexplicable rose petals flowing in the sweet winds, but like with many things, there was a horror implication lurking underneath.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Marcy,” said Sasha slowly, frightenedly, “did I...say anything while I was drunk?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Well, yeah, obviously. Most of it was just babbling though.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sorry, let me rephrase that: did I say anything about <em>Anne?</em>”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Here, Marcy rubbed her chin. “Don’t think so,” she remarked. But before Sasha could sigh her breath of relief, she added, “Then again, I did go off to open the doors for you and Anne, so you could’ve said something to her then while I wasn't there to hear.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">All the blood drained from Sasha’s face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I...see.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Marcy’s head titled slightly; Marcy was not someone who found it easy to read body language or pick up on facial cues, but Sasha’s reaction to what she said was unmistakable. “Sasha, what’s wrong?” she asked. “You look like you’re taking this a little too close to heart.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hmm, what? No, it’s n—”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She was about to say <em>it’s nothing</em>, Marcy instinctively knew, but she backed away from it at the last second. She watched the troubled woman shake her head and let out a light groan. “It’s just that there’s something that...that I should never say to her, and I’m worried that I might have while I was drunk.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I see. And what is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha shook her head. “I can’t tell you either.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh. Well then, can I ask something else?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sure.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Why should you never say this to her?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The question was asked plainly, and it held no hint of ulterior motive or interrogation. And yet, even so, it struck Sasha like an arrow. Her mind and chest inflamed. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened to answer...but nothing came out.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Because she didn’t know the answer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There’s an odd quirk in human nature that allows people to lie to themselves and yet also hold on to the truth. Men and women can construct mighty castles of lies, but lies are flimsy and can easily fall apart. No matter how extravagant or elegant the big lies are, there is a deep sense of <em>wrongness </em>to them, one that can’t be ignored. No one can lie to themselves without always knowing it is a lie, and sooner or later, something comes along to break those fragile illusions.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">For Sasha, that moment was now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Marcy’s simple question breathed into her the spirit of introspection, and she withdrew into a deeper part of her soul. Away from the persona, away from the lie, away from all of it. She could see every justification she ever made as exactly what it was now; mere justifications.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Up until now, she saw the relationship between herself and her feelings for Anne in the light of her history. Her parents had instilled in her a deep distrust and distaste for homosexual romantic feelings, and she had absorbed them, not knowing that she would one day develop those exact feelings.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">That was what she told herself, but that was a lie; she could break away from everything else they forced on her, and she could just as easily break away from this.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She ran away from her hometown to run away from Anne, from her feelings for her. She told herself that those “wrong” feelings would fade, and she tried to accelerate that process by drowning herself in men, in jumping from one relationship to another. But all those dates and relationships disintegrated and turned to ash, and she knew they were lies too.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was all lies. Every single thing she told herself about her feelings for Anne was a lie.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But then why? Why did she lie to herself like this? Why did she go through all this trouble just to avoid facing them, facing her?</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Why should you never say this to her?</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because...because I don’t deserve her.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Marcy’s eyes widened at Sasha’s rasping answer.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because I don’t deserve her!” screamed Sasha from the bottom of her raw throat. As the truth spilled out from her mouth, so did it spill from her eyes in the form of two hot streams of tears. Sasha turned away from Marcy, wiping at her wet eyes with tightly bound fists. Her teeth were clenched, but even they couldn’t stop a final repetition:</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Because I don’t deserve her,” said Sasha a final time.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Not as a whisper or a shout, but as realization.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sasha...” murmured Marcy sympathetically.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’ll tell you, Marcy, because I have to tell someone,” began Sasha, still wiping at her eyes. “The truth is that I love Anne, okay? Like, I’m in love with her. I want to date her and marry her and make a family with her and just <em>be</em> with her. And all this time I was making up all these excuses to keep myself from going and being with her, and the reason why is because I know she’s too good for me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What do you mean?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know what I mean. I’ve been horrible to her our whole lives. Back in middle school, I used to boss her around and make her do things she didn’t want. In Amphibia, I fought her with literal swords and sometimes all I could think about was wanting her dead. Then when we got out, I still didn’t learn, and I was just slightly less of a bitch to her in high school. And then the moment high school ended, I abandoned her. Never made calls, never returned texts. And maybe it would’ve been better that way. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to put up with stupid, selfish Sasha anymore.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Marcy was silent as Sasha ranted. A look of deep interpersonal thoughtfulness, not common for her, passed over her features. She waited for Sasha to finish, and when she did, she went over to her to console her. She put her hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, and smiled down at her friend.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sasha...I think you’re still making excuses,” she said kindly.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wh-what?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You’re still making excuses, Sasha. Because literally everything you said wasn’t true. And even the parts that were true were still all wrong.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What are you—”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“First off, do you think Anne was happy when you up and disappeared one day? Do you think she was glad that she didn’t have to ‘put up’ with you anymore? No! She thought about you all the time, worried about you, hoped you were doing alright in college. Every now and then she’d bring you up out of nowhere, and even though she never said it, I could tell she really, really missed you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“She did?” Her face went from light pink to deep red.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Marcy nodded. “She did. And do you know why she missed you? Because you aren’t stupid or selfish or horrible or any of those other things you said. Well...okay, maybe sometimes you were, but you’re ignoring all your good stats.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh yeah, good stats.” Sasha snorted derisively. “Like how bossy I was?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Like how you would stand up to bullies for us!” said Marcy forcefully. “Or how you always organized our sleepovers and study sessions so we’d have a lot of fun. Or how you sometimes bought us lunch when we couldn’t offer it. And I could keep listing stuff like this, about how you could be kind and cool and brave and smart and a whole bunch of other good things that me and Anne were always jealous of.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, but—”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sasha, you’re being too harsh on your younger self,” said Marcy with a smile. “You weren’t the demon or goblin you think you were back then. And even if you were...you’re not that person anymore. You’ve changed and grown a lot.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha let out a low chuckle. “You know, this is like the fifth time I’ve had to learn that this week.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not surprised. Movies and TV always make growth seem like a straightforward path, but it really isn’t. A lot of the time we slip and have to relearn the exact same things over and over again, until it finally sticks,” said Marcy understandingly. “So let this be that time; you’re not an evil person, and you never really were. Not in middle school, not in Amphibia, now now, not ever.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah, but compared to you two...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey, we weren’t the best friends we could’ve been either, to you and to each other. I was always getting you two into trouble for the lolz, and Anne...well, you remember how she was in Amphibia. Always ditching us and leaving us behind, not really thinking how we’d feel. But all that was okay. It was just part of us becoming who we are now. We made mistakes—everyone does—but I can look back and realize we were all going to end up okay...so why can’t you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Again, Marcy asked a question that struck at a deep core, but this time the impact was blunted, softened. This time when Sasha looked inside, she didn’t see lies that needed to be torn down, but truths that needed to be erected.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“So with all that said,” continued Marcy with a smart little grin, “I think you totally deserve to be with Anne. And I’m not just saying that because you two are one of my IRL OTPs.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha chuckled, and brushed a few hairs away from her face. “I still don’t know what that means.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“It means that when you finally muster up the <em>juevos </em>to confess to Anne, I’ll be right behind you, supporting you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That’s if I haven’t already drunk-confessed to her already...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A wicked light sparkled in Marcy’s eye. “Why don’t we go and find out?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Wait, what? Wait, Marcy, no no no!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Too late. Marcy was already running out of the kitchen and making a dash for Anne’s room. Sasha cursed under her breath and swiftly got up to chase after her. She managed to catch her as soon as she busted down Anne’s door. She grabbed her and tackled her to the ground, trying and failing to hold her back as she dragged herself towards Anne’s bed. But the power of shipping gave Marcy the strength of an actual ship, and she powered forward and reached Anne’s bed.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Good morning, Anna Banana! Sasha has something she wants to say to you!”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With one slick motion, Anne’s blanket was ripped from her bed...</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">...only to reveal no Anne underneath.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Huh?” Marcy and Sasha had the same reaction. The latter even rubbed her eyes in disbelief, but when she looked again, there was still no Anne.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What the...did she leave for college already?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I guess so,” said Marcy. “The first university shuttle should have come right about now. But she usually takes the third one...I wonder why she left early today...”</p><p class="western"> </p>
<hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“...and around this time, Napoleon was marching through his hometown, and Hegel saw this larger-than-life figure as the great man of action of their day, and the main actor through which what he called the <em>geist, </em>or world-spirit, was working through...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne couldn’t focus at all. Not just because she, like every other student in every other philosophy class in the world, had no idea what Hegel was going on about, but because her mind was occupied by something more immediate and more personal, than what one dead man had to say about another dead man. It was opposite of death that permeated through her every thought: love; specifically Sasha’s love for her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Well, maybe not. She still wasn’t too sure about whether her drunken spiel of a confession was evidence of Sasha being in love with her. But then again...there was something so genuine and heartfelt about what she had told her last night. It <em>felt</em> like Sasha was speaking from a deep place, behind the murky haze of intoxication. And that’s all Anne really had to go on—that feeling—but somehow it just felt right.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It also felt pretty surreal.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I mean, Sasha? In love with me?” muttered Anne to herself hours later, as she sat in the library with sheets spread out across the table in front of her. She shook her head, and laughed disbelievingly. “There’s no way...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But it was a gut feeling, more than anything. And in light of all the evidence (AKA how she’d been acting recently, especially around her) it just made too much sense. It was like a jigsaw puzzle; Anne had all the pieces in front of her, and one piece in her hand that she knew would solve the whole thing, but for some reason she just couldn’t bring herself to put that last piece in.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Alright, alright, alright,” she said, clearing her mind. “Let’s say she actually is in love with me, just as an argument. Imagine if she said the same things but sober...how would I feel about that?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Unlike Sasha, Anne didn’t grow up in a homophobic household. Sure, her parents were fairly traditional and religious, but that didn’t necessarily translate to hostility towards queerness. So when Anne discovered in her teens that she had feelings for girls just like she had feelings for boys, she didn’t feel ashamed or afraid to embrace her bisexuality at all. If Sasha actually was in love with her that way too, then on a purely functional level, they could be together. And if she was being completely honest with herself...Anne couldn’t deny that she sometimes liked looking at Sasha through a less-than-platonic lens.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But a relationship was much more than mutual attraction. Sasha was a girl, but she was <em>Sasha </em>first and foremost. She was a girl like no other, with a history with Anne like no other, and that was where Anne’s confusion arose.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <em>Would me and Sasha actually work together? Would she make me happy? Could I make her happy?</em>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She didn’t know. She needed to think hard about this.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Luckily for her, she knew the perfect place to go.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She had to wait until she finished all her dreaded afternoon courses. But the moment her Environmental Sciences professor said “Class dismissed”, Anne was already running to her car.</p><p class="western"> </p>
<hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“The sun’s going down,” said Sasha, looking out the window with worry.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Is it?” said Marcy, so focused on her video game that she didn’t even notice the orange sun striking her on her face. She mashed the buttons of her controller, eyes glued to the television screen, and it was only when the little purple dragon on screen died that she looked to the same window Sasha was standing in front of. “That’s strange," she then remarked. "Anne should’ve come home by now.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Do you realize what this means?!” asked Sasha.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Not really, no.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“She left really early and she’s coming home really late...oh my God, Marcy, I think I did tell her! And now she’s avoiding me, and she’s never coming home because she thinks I—”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With a sigh, Marcy had gotten up and stepped over to Sasha. Then she gave her a good slap across the face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Uh...thanks, I needed that.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Don’t mention it.” Marcy flashed Sasha a thumbs-up as the panicked blonde nursed her cheek. “But seriously, while I don’t think she’s avoiding you, there has to be something up that’s keeping her away. I would’ve said project, but I don’t think she mentioned having a project or something due...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“We have to go out and find her,” said Sasha, now more sure than ever that she actually did confess last night in her drunken state. Her whole face was glowing from the anxious embarrassment; she needed to find Anne and clear things up. Now!</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I mean, we could try calling her first,” suggested Marcy.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh...right. I forgot cellphones exist.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Damn right you did. You know the last time you posted on Twitter was four days ago? Seriously, some of your followers might think you’re dead,” said Marcy as she dialed in Anne’s number.</p><p class="western"> </p>
<hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne’s phone rang in her pocket.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The day was coming to an end, and as the sun neared the end of its journey across the sky, it cast an orange glow on the world below, on its seas. The ocean in front of Anne looked less like it was a body of water and more like a body of melted metals; gold and copper and bronze, liquidated and swirled together.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was an amazing sight, which was why Anne always came to this beach when she was troubled. In the face of a vast expense as beautiful as this, individual problems and worries just seemed so...tiny and meaningless. In a good way, not in an existential crisis way either.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But life doesn’t go away just because you’re trying to escape it. When Anne’s phone rang, she knew instinctively that it was either Sasha or Marcy. She squirmed on the bench as she tried to grab her phone without standing up, but she failed at that. She pulled her bare feet out of the sand mounds she had buried them in and stood up, then extracted her phone from her pocket.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Yep, as she suspected, it was Marcy. She smiled lightly. She didn’t think about it earlier, but she realized now that she might have worried her friends, since she left too early and was coming home too late.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She swiped the screen and put her phone to her cheek. “What’s up, Marcy?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“What’s up? The ceiling of our lovely house, that’s what’s above me right now. So, what’s above you right now? In other words: where are you?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne chuckled. “The sky’s above me,” she answered, “because I’m chilling at the beach.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Oh cool. So is everything alright?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne wasn’t too sure, but that didn’t stop her from answering, “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I don’t know, it’s just that you left really early and really secretively, and now you’re just out late...I was just wondering, that’s all...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m glad you’re worried, but trust me, everything’s fine,” said Anne, not sure whether she was telling the truth or lying.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I’m glad it is. Oh, do you want to talk to Sasha? She’s been worrying about you a lot too.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">At the mention of Sasha’s name, Anne’s heart skipped. The skip turned into a speedy trot when she heard Sasha’s embarrassed squeal in the background: “<em>Don’t tell her that, I don’t want her to know!</em>”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In a way, that almost seemed like a reminder; she couldn’t put off this thing between herself and Sasha forever. She needed to confront it, and confront it today. To do anything else would be a disservice to Sasha and herself.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With dry mouth, Anne said, “Hey Marcy?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Could you...could you bring Sasha here to me?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne didn’t see it, but Marcy’s eyes widened to owlish proportions.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“To the beach, you mean?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah.” Anne nodded. “There’s something I need to tell her, and I’d like to do it here.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Um...okay...I’ll tell her...”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Thanks,” said Anne. Before another word could be exchanged, Anne swiftly ended the call and stuffed her phone back in her pocket.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha was coming. Marcy was going to bring Sasha to her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The speed of Anne’s heartbeat increased, from trotting to galloping. Anne put her hands on her chest, and a troubled look passed her warm face. She had told Marcy to bring Sasha, and she was planning to respond definitively to her feelings…</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">...but she still didn’t know what it was she wanted to say.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She groaned and threw her head back, her palms striking her face only to slowly slide down. They then fell to dangle at her sides, as useless and adrift as she felt at that moment.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I wish they were here. They’d know exactly what I should do.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">They being the Planters.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">It was a strange thought, and she surprised herself when she heard herself saying that aloud. But at that moment of crisis, she had an opportunity for reflection, and what she found was that she really missed the Planters. Sprig, Polly, Hop Pop...she missed them so much, and it was hitting her strong now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">If she were back in Amphibia with them, they could help her out. They could tell her what she could do. Sprig would get all flustered but then start talking about him and Ivy and all the cool tips and tricks he had for romance, Polly would say suggest luring Sasha in and then getting violent with her, and Hop Pop would whip out an old folksy aphorism that he’d then have to explain with a sigh when he realized no one understood what he meant. And at the end, after all those ideas clashed, a solution would emerge...most likely after Anne ignored them all and ran off to do what she wanted anyway.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne laughed briskly. “I did do that a lot back then, didn’t I?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But things change; things always change. The worlds were constantly in motion, as were their inhabitants. Anne had gone from a mischievous teen playing with swords in Amphibia to a responsible college-aged adult working minimum wage on Earth in what felt like the blink of an eye. She didn’t have Sprig and Polly and Hop Pop with her anymore, and no matter how much she missed them, she couldn’t have them join her on the bench right now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">No, she was on her own. But not entirely alone; she still had memories of them, and maybe that would be enough. She’d take what she remembered from them, fuse it with her thought processes now, and that would give her the answer she was looking for.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She thought of Sprig’s impulsiveness and loyalty, Polly’s explosiveness and fearlessness, and Hop Pop’s distrust and protectiveness. She imagined what they would say if she could somehow tell them what was happening to her now...</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">And she smiled. It was a somber smile, but also happy smile.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Thanks guys. I miss you,” she said.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She knew what she needed to do now.</p><p class="western"> </p>
<hr/><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The walk from the house to the beach wasn’t a long one. Just twentyish minutes. That was twentyish minutes Sasha spent praying to whichever god would hear her to pretty please let the ground open under her feet and swallow her whole so she’d never have to face another human being again.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne knew; she had to know. There was no other explanation. Sasha had babbled a love confession while she was drunk and now Anne was preparing a nice rejection speech. Would she laugh too? Would she burst out laughing when she finished? Sasha shivered at the thought.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Perhaps she had shivered a bit too hard, because then Marcy tapped her arm. “Hey,” she said. Sasha looked at her, and she smiled. “It’ll be fine.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Sasha smiled back. “Thanks,” she said.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Maybe she was right. Sasha was obviously exaggerating and imagining the worst. No way Anne would ever laugh at her. Even if she did reject her, Anne was far too nice to ever do that.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">With that in mind, Sasha sucked in a soothing breath and straightened herself out. And her feet weren’t even shaking anymore...not that much, at least.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The beach appeared within sight shortly after, and soon they were on the beach. It was darker now, so the streetlights opened.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Standing underneath one of them was Anne Boonchuy.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">She didn’t notice them at first, but sensing motion out of the corner of her eye she looked up and saw Sasha walking towards her while Marcy pragmatically stood back, allowing her friends their space. Sasha looked a bit tense as she walked towards Anne; that gave Anne relief, knowing that both of them were incredibly nervous.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Then Sasha stopped. They were both under the streetlight now.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey,” she greeted.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Hey,” said Anne in return.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sooooo...you wanted me to meet you here?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">There was a trepidation in Sasha’s voice. Anne found it sweet.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Yeah.” She nodded. “Sasha, I don’t know if you remember or not, but last night...last night you told me some things.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“O-oh?” The blonde looked like she had been struck by lightning.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You thought I was someone else, so you told me some secrets. You told me that...well, that you were in love with me. And that you were scared to tell me you were in love with me.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne’s eyes, big and brown, looked at Sasha with what could only be described as unsure hopefulness, even if Sasha didn’t recognize it as such.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“Sasha...was that all true?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">The agency had been passed to her. Before Sasha was two paths, one where she could lie, laugh it off, and pretend it was all just the nonsense of a drunk woman; or the path where she told the truth, where she confirmed her feelings and accepted the consequences to come.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Rationally, she knew the better option was the first. It was the path of least resistance. There was no risk, and everything could return to normal.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">But at that moment—and maybe it was the romantic scene of sharing a spotlight under the night’s sky while the infinite ocean sang its gentle song—Sasha realized she didn’t want rationality. She wanted Anne, and to have Anne she needed action.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">So she leaped. She leaped a leap of faith.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne’s eyes widened as Sasha nodded her head. “Yes,” she said, her voice low and husky. “It’s all true. I’m in—no, I love you, Anne.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Somewhere out on the beach, a crab crawled out of the dark ocean and bravely began walking on the sand.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne nodded her head affirmatively, but didn’t raise it back up. She looked to the ground as she spoke next:</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“You know, back when we were younger,” she started, “I always thought you were the peak of what a girl should be. I thought you were one of the smartest and most beautiful girls ever. I still think that. So, heh, it’s a bit crazy to think that you’re in love with me. Because I...I don’t know, I don’t feel like I’m good enough for you.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“That’s how I felt too earlier,” confessed Sasha. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and yet I spent most of our friendship treating you terribly. I didn’t think I was worthy of you either.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But now?”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“But a little birdie made me reconsider. A little birdie who walked into two lampposts on our way here,” said Sasha with a grimace of a smile.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne laughed lightly, and she brought her head up. Her eyes met with Sasha’s; sparks flew.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I spent most of today wondering how I felt about you,” said Anne. “I was wondering if I could return your feelings, if I could love you that way too. And just before you arrived, I reached my answer.”</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Before Sasha could ask for it, Anne grabbed her friend’s face and pulled her towards her. Sasha’s eyes widened as she felt something soft collide with her lips.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Anne was kissing her.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">A red blush spread across their faces as they closed their eyes and lost themselves in their kiss. Their lips were pressed together for what felt like eons, and neither wanted to be the first to break it off.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">In the background, Marcy clapped her hands together and let out a little squeal.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">Finally, Anne had to resurface for air. She pulled back slightly, keeping her face close. Her huffed breaths washed over Sasha’s face.</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">“I think I can,” she finally said. She smiled warmly, and her eyes twinkled. “I love you too, Sasha.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And that's the finale. Thank you for reading all the way to this point, and I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. </p><p>I have plans for a future Sashanne story (one that's a bit closer to canon, both in terms of characterization and setting), as well as my current work on a Lumity fanfiction that you can find on my profile, but for now I think I'll take a brief break from writing to focus on my studies and catch up on some reading haha. Thank you all again; stay safe and be well!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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